Legacy: The 137th Hunger Games
by TheEngineeringGames
Summary: Some make a legacy for themselves. Some have a legacy given to them. Head Gamemakers have come and gone, some remembered and some forgotten. One legacy is drawing to a close while another is just beginning.
1. Prologue 1: All Good Things Must End

**Prologue I:**

_One Year Ago_

_Seraphim Lukianas_

"Oh Ophelia, you are literally a lifesaver," Seraphim sighs as he can just barely see a coffee cup slide across the table towards him from where he rests, his head on a pile of medical textbooks. He grabs the to-go cup and pulls it towards him, clutching the warm beverage he's been drinking by the gallon. "I don't know how I could ever get through med school without coffee."

"I'm not Ophelia."

Seraphim immediately picks up his head, more alert than if he just had five shots of expresso. He blinks a few times and rubs his eyes, wondering if he has fallen asleep and this is just some weird dream that he's having. Because there is no way the blue haired woman is sitting across from him right now in the university library. "Did I fall asleep?"

The woman across from him laughs loudly at him, bringing glares over to her from a few people nearby who are trying to cram for finals like Seraphim was just doing. Ophelia stands behind her, her eyes wide as she looks at Seraphim and gives him a shrug, clearly having no idea how this is actually happening. "You might have, based on the drool on that textbook, but no, you are not asleep right now," the woman tells him and Seraphim awkwardly glances down at his textbook and closes it to hide the drool stain he left. "Allow me to introduce myself."

"I know who you are," Seraphim says in an awed whisper.

The woman smirks at him and lifts up the sunglasses from her eyes before reaching across the table to shake his hand. "Lisia Arune, Head Gamemaker."

Seraphim takes her hand, still looking at her with what must be a dumb expression on his face. He still thinks he might be dreaming right now. "Um…pardon me if this is rude…but why are you in the university library during finals week? And why are you talking to _me_ of all people?"

"No need to pardon yourself, it's not rude," Lisia tells him as she leans back in her chair, crossing her arms as she stares across the table at him. "I'm here because, believe it or not, I'd like to retire soon."

"So the rumors are true," Seraphim mutters to himself before clearing his throat at the disapproving look Lisia gives him. "Sorry… I still don't understand why you're talking to _me._ I'm just a poor struggling college student who just wants to pass their finals. And you're…" He gestures at her, really in awe of the woman and everything she has done with the Hunger Games. "You're legendary."

"No need for flattery, Seraphim," Lisia tells him, but he can see she enjoyed the compliment. "I will let you get back to your studying soon, don't worry. But I have a proposition for you."

Seraphim raises his eyebrows at her, before looking around to make sure she's really talking to him. "Okay…" he says hesitantly, still feeling like this is certainly a bizarre stress dream brought on by finals week.

"Look, I am getting ready to retire in the next year or two," Lisia tells him, leaning forward to rest her arms on the table. "I have been searching for someone to take over after me. I refuse to have just anyone take over my legacy. Someone that I can start training now so they can work with Fabio – the only one I trust to take over for me right now, even if he doesn't want to – who will take over after me in the transition years, before they are ready to truly be the Head Gamemaker." Lisia puts her elbows on the table and clasps her hands together before resting her chin against them, staring back at a wide-eyed Seraphim. "I've searched through many programs. The students training to be Gamemakers right now suck. I need a bright mind. Someone who can take an idea and bring it to life while also making it thrilling and exciting. Someone who can weave a story together with the tributes. Someone who knows when to wait and when to move the pawns on the chessboard together."

"Well that's not me," Seraphim tells her, shaking his head.

"Not according to your professors," Lisia remarks and Seraphim widens his eyes a little. "I've been talking to the faculty here to find their brightest students, regardless of their field of study. And you," Lisia points over at him, making him freeze up in fear of the powerful woman, "You have been recommended more than any other student here."

Lisia stares at him for a long moment before continuing, "So, Seraphim, I have an offer to make you. Will you start training with me now, learning all about what it takes to be a Gamemaker, so that someday you can become _the_ Head Gamemaker?"

"I…I don't really know what to say," Seraphim tells her honestly, never having thought about being a Gamemaker. Not when he was always so fascinated with becoming a doctor someday. "It's not something I've ever thought of and I really want to be a doctor-"

"How about you join the medical team for the 136th Games?" Lisia interrupts him and he stops, considering that offer. "Get a little taste for what being part of the Games is like. I have a feeling you'll reconsider my offer then."

"I…" Seraphim looks up at Ophelia, finding his friend nodding her head aggressively to get him to agree. And he wants to. What a cool interning opportunity that is? "Would I get to see the victor right away when they win?"

"You would be on the hovercraft that picks them up," Lisia says, leaning forward. "One of the very first people that gets to greet them as a newly crowned victor."

Seraphim shuts his eyes for a moment, picturing himself standing on the hovercraft after Elliot has announced the victor of the 136th Hunger Games. Who will it be? Will it be an underdog that he always roots for with his mother? Or will it be a career victor? Or an unexpected outer District powerhouse? Who can say? But all he knows is that it would be dumb to pass up that opportunity. He opens his eyes to find Lisia staring at him expectantly. "What if I want to keep being a doctor?"

"Then you are welcome to stay on that team," Lisia tells him, but her face says otherwise. "But I think once you have the taste of the Games, you'll be working by my side for the 137th Hunger Games."

Seraphim really doesn't think that will be the case…but he'll let her think that will. "I accept your offer then."

"Excellent," Lisia answers, a smirk instantly on her face as she stands up. She rests both hands on the table as she leans forward to stare down at Seraphim, making the young man sink back into his chair from her intimidation. "I will have someone on the team send you more information and set up a meeting time so you can be prepped before the Games start. I'll also set up a meeting for you to tour the Games Headquarters with me. Good luck with your finals. I will see you soon. And just think about how Head Gamemaker Lukianas sounds."

And with that, the Head Gamemaker slides her shades back on before walking out of the library, her heels loud and distracting on the tile floor, but she doesn't seem to be bothered by it as she walks with her head held high. But, Seraphim supposes that's the sort of confidence you gain when you are the Head Gamemaker for fifteen years. A Head Gamemaker that just offered him to train with her and take over for her someday…

"Seraphim, I love you, but you are a fucking idiot sometimes," Ophelia says as she slides into the now vacant seat across from him. She crosses her arms and shakes her head at him. "Did you really just turn down the opportunity to get trained to become the _Head Gamemaker_?"

"Did that really just happen or am I in a stress induced dream right now?" Seraphim asks, frozen in place by everything just happening. Ophelia leans forward and smacks him on the side of the head. "Ow!" He says, rubbing the spot she slapped. "Okay…definitely not dreaming…" He reaches for his coffee with shaking hands, getting overwhelmed by all of this. "I'm not qualified for this. I'm just a stressed out college student."

"Seraphim, again, you're a fucking idiot," Ophelia tells him once more. "When are you going to realize how brilliant you are and your potential? _Lisia Arune_ has noticed it."

Seraphim shakes his head at this, taking a slow sip of his coffee, his brain overwhelmed and unable to focus on a single thought. How is this happening to him? "I can't believe this is real life… I need to call my mom."

* * *

**All aboard the hype train! It is that time, once again, to embark on the start of another SYOT! *waves party noise makers* Welcome to Legacy: The 137th Hunger Games! This story is something I've had the idea for for a long time so I'm very excited to finally get going with this!**

**The way this story is going to work will be just like Wayward. It is a partial SYOT with each District having a featured tribute spot. Those are the tributes that will have POVs and be focused on. Any of the featured tributes have a shot at winning! Four of those featured spots are my own tributes and the rest, along with the non-featured spots, will be submitted by you! Now obviously the non-featured tributes aren't seen as much. They're still a crucial part of the story and if you show you're still actively reading, I'll make sure we see them a good amount. **

**The featured spots this time around (excluding my four) are: D1M, D4M, D6F, D8M, D9F, D10M, and D11F!**

**Also, like always, I have a blog for the story! It is up right now at **legacy137th . weebly . com **(just remove spaces, obviously) and at this time, it's mostly info on the mentors and Capitolites. Eventually it will have info regarding the tributes! And warning: the mentor list contains spoilers for the Wayward victor.**

**Subs are open right now and all the info is up on my profile. I've already gotten quite a few good tributes and I'm really excited to see what you submit! Subs are going to be open until I finish up the four prologues, so earliest the end of August, but also maybe some time in September. So no rush on that! I'll get a more definitive deadline in the next prologue or two! There are also escort subs, but at this time, only D1 and D4 are open! There are some familiar faces returning and some new ones. Info on subbing an escort is also up on my profile!**

**I really hope you will join me on this crazy journey and send me your craziest tribute ideas! So buckle up and get ready for chaos because we're upping the stakes in Legacy. You thought Wayward was crazy? Just wait. Lisia is going out with a _bang_.**

**See you soon with the second prologue where we'll take a look at the first bunch of mentors! Half will have POVs from their Games and the other half will be more present day POVs! (well, as close to half as you can when you have 11 mentors lol). Anyways, see you after Senseless Party Part 1 and Wayward Epilogue 1!**


	2. Prologue 2: What Is Done

**Prologue II:**

_Dracana Molloi, District One, Victor of the 126__th__ Hunger Games_

None of them know exactly what is about to happen to them. Dracana had been careful about what information she revealed about herself in the Capitol to not let them have any idea about the real reason she volunteered. She let them believe she was just a dedicated friend who wanted to honor her former friend after her tragic death in last year's Quarter Quell. Let them take pity on her. Think she's weak and barely holding it together still after the death of her beloved Lorelei. And she is still feeling the pain from her best friend's death, Dracana won't deny that. She _is_ a dedicated friend who wants to win for Lorelei.

But she's also here to make sure District Two is destroyed for what they did to Lorelei last year. She will _not_ let District Two get a victor after they let their victor last year so brutally kill Lorelei. She was killed in cold blood…killed without a chance of a fight.

Not this year. This year, it will be District Two getting killed without a chance. She is going to show them that they picked the wrong person to mess with last year.

Dracana waits as the timer counts down, waiting for the start of the Games. She let the pair from Two come up with a plan for their alliance at the start, allowing her to know exactly what their plan is so she can sabotage that. None of the others know her plan, all the better so they aren't prepared to stop her. So when the pair goes to attack other tributes, thinking Dracana will be watching their backs, she'll be watching alright. Watching as she drives a knife into their backs.

Ten more seconds. Ten more seconds until she will get her revenge.

"Just know that this is all Glacia's fault," Dracana whispers to herself, hoping the cameras pick up on it so the victors from Two can know. She wants them to know she had this planned.

The gong sounds and Dracana takes off, running to the cornucopia to get supplies, taking a large bag from the mouth, a belt of knives, and a sword, knowing she doesn't have time to grab more. Not if she wants to catch them unaware.

Screams are already starting around her as the first tributes fall, making her scowl that the first deaths were not the pair from Two. But she finds the first of them quickly as Eddard pulls his sword out of the stomach of a tribute. Their other allies are staring to arrive, getting their weapons as they prepare to defend their supplies, and Dracana makes her move. Eddard moves to his next target, unaware of Dracana until her sword is sticking through his chest.

Eddard coughs as he falls to the ground as more tributes keeping screaming. But one person yelling stands out as Dracana runs over to Lillian, the girl from Two doing what she's trained to do, kill tributes. "Dracana, what the fuck are you doing?!"

Lillian looks over at the sound of Dracana's District partner yelling, seeing just in time as Dracana tries to stab her. She deflects her sword enough for it to go in her shoulder instead and she cries out as she tries to stab Dracana in return, but Dracana places a good kick to her stomach, sending her backwards to the ground. With one quick movement, Dracana stabs the girl in the chest, ending District Two's chances.

Dracana cries out as an arrow pierces her back, stopped from being a fatal hit by her bag. She turns back and just barely has enough time before Elaina shoots another arrow at her, the girl from Four looking quite pissed at Dracana. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Getting my revenge!" Dracana holds out her hands, gesturing at the pair from Two that now lay dead at her feet. "Those bitches shouldn't have killed Lorelei!"

"Dracana, why would you do this?" Trystan says to her as her District partner is dragged forward, a knife at his throat from their other remaining ally.

"Sorry bud," Dracana says, not really feeling sorry for her District partner. He was going to die anyways for her to win. "This was always my plan."

"You've fucked things up for all of us!" Elaina yells at her again, shooting another arrow and making Dracana start running again as the knife is pulled across Trystan's throat, leaving her District partner dead.

Dracana doesn't look back as she runs off, running in a zigzag motion to keep dodging the arrows being fired at her, waiting for the satisfaction to hit her that she did it. But it never comes. After who knows how long of running away, she starts to slow, confused at why she's not feeling happier about finally seeing her plan through. "I don't understand," Dracana says to herself as she looks down at her hands stained red with blood. "I did it…"

But the two deaths aren't changing what happened last year. It's not going to bring Lorelei back from the dead. It's not going to make Lorelei the victor instead of Glacia.

Dracana collapses next to a tree, trying to hold in the sobs that want to escape as she realizes this hasn't done anything to numb the pain. If anything, getting to this point has just made the pain come back renewed since there's no longer this goal distracting her thoughts.

It was a dumb move…so, so stupid… She hadn't even told her mentor what she was going to do and she doubts she'll get any support now. Not after her actions inadvertently got Trystan killed.

She's on her own…with no Lorelei to lead her or give her guidance. She has to keep making stupid decisions and hope that they get her out of this arena.

* * *

_Glenwood Salix, District Seven, Victor of the 133__rd__ Hunger Games_

Glen knows if he doesn't do something desperate soon, he won't survive this arena. He's all on his own – his own dumb mistake, as Stefan put it, but now Glen understands a bit – and with no one to watch his back or help him try to find supplies. The supplies are the biggest issue and no matter how much Glen searches this awful arena, he has to finally admit to himself that the only way he is going to find water is through the supplies given at the cornucopia.

He's found places that could be water sources, but only steam rose from the channels, the water evaporated just like Glen's hopes of not dying by dehydration seems to be doing. He knows the early signs of dehydration. Everyone does in Seven to watch for anyone working long summer days to keep them safe. He is long passed the early stages.

Glen _did_ have a good water supply at the start…but three days in and it's all gone as Glen was forced to hydrate himself after this arena has made him sweat profusely. All because of the rivers of magma that flow down the path next to where Glen walks. He leans against the opposite wall and occasionally stops to catch his breath. He's never sweat this much in his life. Not even on the hottest summer days. But how could summer compare to being inside a volcano? At least his sweat has kept him cool for a few minutes, until he gets too close to magma and gets dried instantly.

"Stefan…_please_," Glen begs his mentor for the millionth time, hoping maybe this time will be the time he actually listens and gets him some water. But as he stares up at the ceiling, he has to accept that he's never getting that water. Why would any sponsor want to pay probably raised prices to send water to the scrawny kid from Seven? He's not remarkable in any way. He's just a scrawny nerd that tries to keep to himself at school and tries to avoid the bullies, but they still always find him… If anyone in the Capitol had thought Glen could fight from the black eye he had at the Reaping thanks to the bullies, he's long since proven them wrong.

"Why would anyone want me to win?" Glen whispers feebly as he finds a little nook in the wall and slides down it, keeping him out of sight from anyone glancing down the pathway. "I'm nothing special…just pitiful. I can't even find water on my own or protect myself…"

If Glen had enough water left in him, he's sure he would have started crying out of self-pity. His eyes still prickle, but stay dry and leave him taking shaky breaths as he wraps his arms around himself. He's going to die in this arena. He had thought the worst possible death would be at the hands of one of the bloodthirsty careers, but he was so very wrong. Dehydration is so much worse.

The bullies were all right back home. He's pitiful and never going to amount to anything with his life. He's going to die in this arena, somewhere in the middle of the Games, and be long forgotten by time they get to the victor. Because who will remember some sad kid that died of dehydration?

Glen freezes up when he hears a rock scuffling, the noise echoing up the small pathway to where he hides not too well. If someone were to walk past him, they'll see him…and he has no way of protecting himself. He pulls his legs up to his chest and tries to press himself into the wall as far back as he can, in a desperate attempt to hide himself, because for all the talk about dying and being pitiful, he still really doesn't want to die.

The footsteps get closer and Glen's heart starts racing in fear as he waits to see who it will be and tries to formulate some sort of plan to attack them when they see him. He fumbles around on the ground next to him, searching for some sort of rock he could use, but the ground is smooth. He slouches over and stares ahead as the footsteps get even closer, staring at the bubbling stream of magma running passed him, and a terrible thought fills his head.

The person stumbles as they reach his alcove and they reach out to catch themself on the wall, dragging their bag behind them and Glen and Paldin – one of the two from Five and _thankfully_ not a career – make eye contact with each other. Paldin just starts to hold up their hand to stop him, letting go of their bag that Glen reaches for immediately as he moves forward to push Paldin with his other hand. "Wait!" Paldin yells at him, but it's too late.

Glen pushes them with strength that surprises him – he's not winning any weightlifting competitions back home – and Paldin screams as they stumble back, flailing their arms and trying to catch themself on anything. But it's too late for them and Glen watches with wide terrified eyes as they fall into the magma, their screams getting cut off instantly as they are burned up.

_Boom._

Glen lets out a sob of fear at how…easy…it was to just kill someone… His first kill… One second they were there and the next…dead. But he didn't want to kill…he had to out of desperation.

With shaky hands, Glen pulls the bag closer to him and slowly unzips it, praying that there will be water in there. He sifts through the rope and pickaxe, packet of nuts, until he finally finds a water bottle. "Yes!" Glen says as he pulls it out, before his face falls as he stares at the few drops remaining in it. "Fuck!" He yells as he tosses the bottle at the magma, feeling defeated once more. All that…and he doesn't even have any water.

Glen looks at the pickaxe in the bag, contemplating its uses. Clearly Paldin didn't realize that it could easily be used as a weapon… He actually has a weapon now to defend himself with…

_Shit, this means he's going to have to kill again to find water._

* * *

_Astrid Vadim, District Eight, Victor of the 135__th__ Hunger Games_

Two more.

Only two more tributes standing in her way of getting out of here alive. She's so ready to get out of here and away from the putrid smell that comes from the bogs bubbling up hot water all around her. The steam from the hot water has kept her hidden for the most part, except for three times. One she was able to run away from. One she talked into thinking she was just 'a scared thirteen year old' until they found her knife at their throat. And the third…Astrid shakes her head, still able to hear the screams from the girl she left to be attacked by mutts that crawled out of the bogs and dragged her in.

But now isn't the time to worry about those she killed. Or rather, worrying about the fact that she isn't feeling more from their deaths. Shouldn't she…? But then again, what was murder when she already spent years on the streets and have seen so many terrible things.

No, all Astrid cares about is getting out of this hell.

She scans the steamy field in front of her, knife held in front of her, gripped tightly in the rubber suit she wears. She pauses for a moment to stare down at the thermal suit again, still amazed that someone actually sponsored it to her. It had taken a bit to figure out just what it meant, but after one brave test of sticking her hand in a bog and feeling only a slight hint of the heat, she understood just how valuable of an item it is.

A rustling of stone has her head snapping up, just in time to avoid a punch from the girl from Seven. Not much older than Astrid, the girl has a desperate look in her eyes, clearly just as ready to end it as Astrid is. She keeps trying to throw punches and Astrid does her best to keep darting around her, reminded of the times she had to stay out of the grasps of shopkeepers she stole food from. She tries swinging her knife at the girl, but she dodges it before punching Astrid's hand, forcing her fingers to open and drop the knife. The girl kicks the knife and Astrid throws herself after it, just barely missing it before it slides into a nearby bog, sinking in and dissolving right away.

Astrid rolls over as the girl tries to kick her in the face, scrambling to her feet and feeling a rage in her that she hasn't felt in years. Not since she was kicked out onto the streets. "Really?" Astrid asks as she glares over at her opponent, getting a glare back. "The fight wasn't already balanced in your favor against someone who's thirteen that you had to take away her knife?"

"I'm not going to lose!" The girl lets out a scream as she runs towards Astrid, grabbing onto her shoulders and trying to force her towards the bog. Astrid quickly grabs onto the girl's shoulders and digs her feet into the ground, trying to stop her from pushing her in, but her feet slide on the loose stones.

"I'm not losing either!" Astrid yells back, spitting in the girl's face before trying to kick out at her. Her foot hits her thigh, making her falter but she catches herself before she can fall in.

Astrid doesn't see the boy from Ten running over until it's too late and he pushes both of them, sending them falling towards the bog. The girl screams as Astrid stares up at the smug look on his face as he watches them fall. There's a loud splash as they hit the water and Astrid's ears are filled with shrill screams as she cringes, waiting for the pain to hit her.

Yet there's nothing. No heat, nothing like the sizzling noise from next to her as the girl from Seven is dissolved by the heat. The screams stop and Astrid freezes, floating on her back as the boy walks closer to the edge, staring down at them with a look of victory.

_Boom._

The boy starts laughing before looking up at the sky and yelling, "I won!"

_I don't think so._

Astrid slowly shifts her legs down into the water, able to reach the bottom of it. Just as the boy is starting to look back down, face full of confusion that there hasn't been an announcement yet that he's the victor, Astrid pushes herself forward. She grabs the boy's ankle and yanks hard, causing him to lose his balance and fall right into the bog.

"No!" He shouts just before splashing into the water, screaming immediately.

Astrid pulls herself out of the water collapsing to her knees, hearing the screams from the boy has his flesh is melted away in the bubbling hot spring, turning the crystal blue water crimson red. Yet she can't look away from the boy who nearly killed her. He _would_ have killed her if not for the thermal suit sponsored to her days ago…

_Boom._

She lets out her own scream at the cannon, letting out all the anguish and pain and fear of the past twelve days. She did it. Astrid Vadim, youngest of her Games. No, she's no longer just the youngest. She's the victor of her Games.

She starts laughing as she pays attention to the voice announcing in the arena, unable to stop herself. "…The victor of the 135th Hunger Games, Astrid Vadim!"

Who would have ever predicted that she would end up as the victor? No one in District Eight had believed that the thirteen year old orphan girl living on the streets would make it past the bloodbath. Yet she did. No one back home was rooting for her, there was no one left to wish for her to make it home alive. But it doesn't matter to Astrid. She did it. _She won._

She had thought no one in the Capitol was rooting for her. It had seemed that way from the start during the chariot rides. But one person was rooting for her…someone sent her the thermal suit that just saved her life. Astrid stares down at her hands, covered in the thin blue material. She would be dead right now if she didn't have that suit to protect her from the extreme heat that was enough to melt away flesh and bone. The boy from Ten would be the victor and his family back home would be cheering for him. Instead, they're probably cursing Astrid. But she doesn't care. She won, fair and square.

Well…not quite fair. But the Games aren't fair. People win by the advantages given to them. Astrid had every disadvantage at the start of the Games but she deserved this one advantage. She doesn't know who would actually care enough about her to buy what must have been the most expensive item in the arena. But she knows one thing.

She'll never be able to repay whoever saved her life.

* * *

_Lelantos Henrikson, District Nine, Victor of the 119__th__ Hunger Games_

Fonio told them to do whatever it takes to win, and Lelantos really took that advice to heart. They weren't going to stand back and let someone else take the victory. They want to win, damn it! And if that means doing things they wouldn't even think of doing normally, well, they will have time to apologize for it after they win.

They don't think Fonio had quite meant do any_one_. But what else were they supposed to do? They aren't strong. They don't know how to fight or use weapons. But they do know that they have some good looks and are confident in their sexuality. So what were they supposed to do when they saw that big manly career from Two giving looks at them in training?

Well, they made sure they spent a lot of time near Brayden in training and also may have given a few suggestive looks. By the end of the first day of training, Brayden was filled with anger at the hard on he had with no outlet. Who would have thought Brayden just needed some good dick to be manipulated? That was something Lelantos was happy to provide to him later that night.

It was too easy convincing Brayden to ally with him. The boy was a suppressed mess of sexual tension just waiting to burst, all from the parents that would cast him out if they knew their son didn't fit their perfect heteronormative family and wasn't the perfect trained volunteer they have put pressure on for his whole life. All Lelantos had to do was bat their eyelashes a little bit, whisper in his ear about how he shouldn't risk dying without being himself, and Brayden was theirs.

Lelantos has been patiently waiting to play all their cards. They let Brayden run into the bloodbath, the other careers still thinking he was part of them, until he killed one and injured another before they ran off with supplies. They let Brayden protect them in the arena against the other tributes, cheering him on in fights and fucking him well after each fight. But now the numbers are down to six. And with Brayden as the only career left…it's time for Lelantos to make their move before Brayden realizes victory could easily be his.

Lelantos slowly adjusts how they hold onto Brayden, the larger boy curled up against them, blissfully sleeping after Lelantos kept him distracted from the Games with a good fucking. They'll admit, they're going to miss the sex with Brayden. Once they got a taste of it…they didn't really want to stop. But, they suppose there are plenty of other people out there. People who will gladly want to sleep with them once they are a _victor_. So it's time for poor sweet Brayden to go.

The boy lets out a snore as Lelantos moves their arm back, making them freeze for a moment until Brayden's breathing becomes slow and even once more. They almost feel bad for how much Brayden has fallen for them, almost obsessed to the point where he can't see the truth about Lelantos. Well, he's about to find out very soon.

Lelantos carefully picks up one of the knives sitting with their supplies and holds it up in front of their face, studying the sharp edge. They have to be careful about this and make sure they do this right. They can't let Brayden get any chance to fight – not that they think he will against them – or he will definitely win. Lelantos knows they don't have a _chance_ against Brayden in a direct fight. Good thing that won't happen.

With the hand wrapped around Brayden, they pull the boy against their chest, holding onto him tightly. Brayden lets out a noise of content and pushes back against Lelantos, completely unaware of what they're doing. "Babe, I don't know if I can go another around already."

"There won't be another time," Lelantos whispers to him and before the words can really sink in, Lelantos drives the knife deep into Brayden's chest. Brayden tries to struggle against them, but Lelantos holds onto him and quickly drives the knife in a couple more times, until Brayden is barely moving and gasping against their chest.

Lelantos lets go and rolls away from him, getting a little grossed out at the blood now soaking into their clothes. Brayden tries to roll over towards them, sputtering as he tries to say something with his dying breaths. Lelantos crouches next to him, holding the knife as Brayden stares at it, deep hurt in his eyes from the betrayal. Well, it might also be from the pain of the stab wounds. "Wh-wh-"

"Why?" Lelantos asks and shrugs as they bring down their hands, dropping the knife to the ground. "Sorry love, I did what I had to do to win. But thanks for the fine ass."

_Boom._

Lelantos shuts their eyes for a moment, letting the sound of the canon echo in their head. Ah…what a great sound. Only four more times to hear that canon and then they will be out of here. They open their eyes and start moving around, whistling to themself as they start gathering up their supplies, tossing aside things they know they won't need, things that Brayden was using. Soon enough, they have one pack full of supplies and get ready to head out into the arena to find the others.

They pause a few feet away from their camp and turn back to look at Brayden, betrayal frozen on his face. Poor guy never knew what hit him. "Thanks love," Lelantos jokes as they blow a kiss at him. "I'll never forget the ass that got me my victory."

* * *

_Kanzi Yesenia, District Eleven, Victor of the 130__th__ Hunger Games_

No one is expecting Kanzi to actually win. Not with the terrible odds Eleven has had over the years… Only one victor who won back in the 79th Hunger Games. Fifty years without another victor. Kanzi has no doubt that has made a lot of the other tributes from her District over the years lose hope of winning. Hell, her own District partner Roger was one of those – and that's why he died in the bloodbath.

But not Kanzi. There's a reason her parents always tell her she should have been born in Ten because she's as stubborn as the bulls there. So what if people say Eleven has bad luck or something? So what if she's severely outmatched by the careers? Non-careers have won before, and she's going to make sure she's the next one. And the careers this year ain't shit, considering they're halfway through and their numbers are already down to two. She should have known from the way they were bickering throughout training and couldn't seem to agree on anything. Which is fine with her. Let them fracture and lose.

That victory is going to be Kanzi's.

"Okay, listen up," Kanzi tells her two allies as she crouches down, using a stick to help draw out their next plan in the dirt. She stares down the pair from Seven, making sure they're paying attention to her. They had been easy to recruit into an alliance with her, both having knowledge about the wilderness but just needing a bit of guidance. And that's where Kanzi stepped in. They've done well so far, helping her get supplies in the bloodbath and then with executing plans to trap other tributes. Between the three of them, they've already gotten four kills. And it is time to make that five. "We saw evidence of a camp nearby so let's lure that tribute out."

Kanzi draws out her plan in the dirt, indicating where they'll set up a trap and how they'll lure the tribute to the trap – something that immediately makes Millie, the younger of the two from Seven, start protesting. "Why does it have to be me leading them to the trap?"

"Because you're the fastest," Kanzi tells her calmly, doing her best to not let the girl know that there's a good chance she could get injured if she's not fast enough. "Come on, you've done it once before and it turned out alright."

"I suppose…" Millie grumbles and she crosses her arms, making her partner Jordan pat her on the shoulder reassuringly.

"Well let's get to it then," Kanzi tells them, standing up and getting right to work, knowing the two will be right behind her.

In under an hour, they have an old trap modified and ready to lure this tribute in. Kanzi gives Millie a reassuring smile, but the girl still looks nervous about this plan. "You'll do great, Millie."

Millie doesn't look to sure about this, but eventually nods her head, following Kanzi's leadership once more. "Okay…"

"Go get that tribute and get us one step closer to home," Kanzi tells her and Jordan gives her a thumbs up before she turns to leave. Kanzi and Jordan get into place, hidden away in the trees near their trap, and then they wait.

Kanzi keeps Jordan quiet, not wanting to give up their spot but also just not wanting to talk to him. She has no idea how long it has been before she hears Millie screaming and footsteps running towards them. Jordan looks like he wants to jump out of the tree to help her, but Kanzi grabs his arm and keeps him in place. "Don't ruin the trap."

"But Millie-"

"But no," Kanzi whispers, shaking her head at him before turning her attention back to the footsteps running towards them.

But then Millie screams out again, Jordan's name this time, and there's nothing Kanzi could have done to stop him from running towards her. "Millie!" He yells as he runs towards his District partner, leaving Kanzi alone and cursing the idiot. If she loses both of her allies because they wouldn't listen to her, she's gonna slap herself for picking idiots.

_Boom._

"No!" Jordan screams in the distance and Kanzi shakes her head more as she leans back in the tree, knowing she shouldn't run after them. If Millie got killed by this tribute, well, it's likely Jordan will too.

But she doesn't hear another cannon yet, instead hears Jordan's screams of protest getting closer until she sees him getting dragged closer by the dumbass girl from One. Well, she supposes she messed up there in thinking it was a tribute they could handle. But at least it wasn't her that was out there and discovered.

"Kanzi, show yourself!" Zen shouts, looking around the trees and continuing to drag Jordan by the hair on his head. "I know you were allies with this pathetic pair."

Jordan starts whimpering, but Kanzi stays quiet, pressing herself closer to the tree as Zen keeps walking towards her. "Kanzi, _please_!" Jordan begs her, but he should know better. Why would she sacrifice herself for him when the career will just kill them both? No fucking way.

"Yes, Kanzi, please show yourself," Zen says as she keeps walking. _Come on, just a few more steps._ "I'll give you to the count of three before I slit his throat."

"One…"

"Two…"

Zen pauses, giving Kanzi one last chance, but she must really be dumb if she thinks Kanzi cares that much about her allies.

"Three," Zen finishes and Jordan screams out, just before Zen slits his throat, cutting off his scream.

_Boom._

Zen pushes the body to the side, making a disgusted face at the blood on her hands before wiping them on her jacket. "You can't stay hidden from me," Zen says, still looking around and not finding Kanzi, all because she won't look up at the trees.

Kanzi finally jumps down from the tree and shows herself, just as Zen is about to go in a direction away from the trap. She positons herself appropriately, holding out her arms and showing she has no weapons. "I'm right here, come and get me."

Zen lets out a yell as she starts running towards Kanzi, getting caught in the trap right away and getting pulled to the ground, a wire tightly wrapped around her leg and cutting into it. When she fell, her knife fell out of her hand, just out of her reach, and instead of reaching for one of the other knives she has on her, she keeps reaching for that one.

Kanzi walks over, picking up the knife as Zen starts to get close to touching it with her fingertips. "I don't think so."

* * *

**So there we have our first set of the mentors! I decided to group them by who is getting a Games POV vs Current Day POV rather than District, so yeah, that's why we have a seemingly random group lol. These were the ones I had Games ideas for/are greatly shaped by what they do in the Games, and I'm excited to show this group at the time of the 137th Games!**

**Which one of these five did you like the most? Who do you think will be the most impacted by their decisions? Next up we're going to take a look at Jory, Matla, Muir, Letha, Jarle, and Danila at current day!**

**Subs are still open, of course. They'll be open until I get through the four prologues. Thank you to everyone who has submitted a tribute so far! So keep those subs coming, just please make sure they're detailed and you do your research on anything you're not familiar with. I also ask that if you're going to sub, please do your best to keep up with this story. I know life happens and I get it, sometimes you need to take a break from this, but it makes it harder for me to write tributes when I know the submitter isn't reading, especially for the featured tributes. And I want to have fun with this story and enjoy writing all the tributes.**

**So that's about it for this prologue! We'll start up questions for sponsor points once the prologues are done. The second half of the mentors will be up soon ish (aka whenever I have it done and have updated both Senseless and Wayward lol). Anyways, see you soon!**


	3. Prologue 3: Moving On

**A/N: Spoiler warning for the Wayward victor in this chapter.**

* * *

**Prologue III:**

_Jory Foran, District Two, Victor of the 123__rd__ Hunger Games_

"Stop being an idiot, Jory, you're not in trouble," the victor whispers to himself as he stands outside Kat Liero's office. He knows he hasn't done anything wrong, but every time she asks him to come to his office, he feels like he's fifteen again and about to get scolded by her. Doesn't matter if he's now in his thirties: Kat Liero is just a scary woman.

"I can hear you muttering out there, Jory!" Kat calls through the door at him and Jory nervously chuckles before knocking on the door and openly it slowly. Kat has an amused look on her face as he enters, before shaking her head at him and gesturing to the chairs across from her. "Sit."

"Yes, ma'am," Jory answers immediately and almost runs to sit down, not wanting to make her mad at him. Some habits from his days as a trainee just won't die. "So…" Jory says slowly when Kat doesn't immediately launch into whatever she needs to discuss but instead keeps staring at him with her sharp gaze – which only further makes him think he's done something wrong. "What did you want to talk about?"

"Zephyr," Kat says right away and Jory raises an eyebrow immediately at this, fighting against the feeling of his cheeks heating up. Oh God, does she know that there is…something…happening with them? Hell, even he doesn't know what's happening with them.

"What…what about Zephyr?" Jory asks nervously, no longer just out of terror at the victor. Now it's also out of fear of not knowing what the hell he is feeling and also feeling like it's…wrong, somehow, to be feeling this way. He knows deep down, in a part he tries his absolute hardest to keep locked down…he still loves Emilio.

So why the hell does he have feelings for the first victor he brought home?

"Do you think he's ready to mentor?" Kat asks him and Jory lets out a breath of relief that he hadn't realized he was holding.

"Oh," Jory says, relieved that she's only asking about this. "Well…I'd say he's ready if he has someone experienced with him to help him out. Not sure where you'll find someone like that here in Two, though," Jory jokes, but Kat keeps staring at him with that cool and unamused look, making his chuckles die down quickly.

"I'm looking at him," Kat tells him and Jory's eyebrows immediately raise up in surprise, and all he can do is just stare at her. "I'm going to have you and Zephyr mentor this year. You know him the best from working with him for years, so I figure what's another year of that. Is there a problem with that?"

Jory opens and closes his mouth a couple times, trying to figure out how to respond to Kat, because he has no idea if he has a problem with that. On the one hand, he's happy that Kat has picked him to keep mentoring Zephyr in a way, and also the fact that she thinks he is ready to mentor. But on the other hand…this means he's going to be spending a lot of time with Zephyr, a lot of time alone…and that means he might have to confront the confusing new feelings he has towards Zephyr. "Nope, not a problem at all. I'm happy to work with him again. But uh, you wouldn't happen to know who is mentoring this year for One, by any chance? One _and_ Four, of course…"

Kat gives him a knowing look at this and Jory nervously clears his throat, shifting uncomfortably under her hard gaze. "Thetis hasn't told me that information since you and Zephyr used that information to exploit her mentors' strategies."

Jory chuckles nervously and shrugs at her, "Whoops…? I mean, it worked, right?"

"It did, I won't deny that," Kat responds, just the hint of a proud look in her eyes. "As for Four, Delmar has been all proud of his victory and I won't be surprised if he's mentoring this year."

"Young and inexperienced," Jory comments to himself and Kat nods her head in agreement. "Better for us."

"Yes, it is," Kat says before crossing her hands on her lap. "Now, go ahead and tell Zephyr. We need to get you two working with the chosen volunteers right away so you can know their strategies. We'll start tomorrow."

Jory stands up at her dismissal, giving her a smile to hide what he's feeling inside. "Right away, ma'am." Kat simply nods her head at him and he leaves her office and once the door is shut, he leans his head against the wall next to it, confused on everything in him right now. He hasn't felt this way in…in years, really. Not since…nope, he is not going to let his thoughts go that way.

But now…now he's going to be living in the same space as Zephyr for a few weeks, a small enclosed space with barely anyone else to talk to aside from Flannery and the tributes, having to work together while there's all this tension between them. All while the person who is making it hard for Jory to finally move on might be one floor below them.

What the hell did he just agree to?

* * *

_Matla Jarend, District Three, Victor of the 128__th__ Hunger Games_

Today is a day that Matla is still in a bit of disbelief that it actually happened. It doesn't matter that she worked hard for eight years at university to reach this point, she still can't quite belief it's actually happening. Today is the day Matla is given the fancy piece of paper and allowing her to have proof when she tells people that she is a doctor…

Doctor of philosophy, but that's beside the point. Still counts as being a doctor in her eyes. As she waits in the seats with the other doctorate graduates, listening to the sappy speech by the dean of the university about perseverance or whatever, Matla can't help but get a little emotional. Not from the dean's speech – that's as corny as can be. No…about the fact that she's actually sitting here today, in this seat, and waiting to get her degree. This was always her dream growing up, to attend the university and just get any degree, not even a doctorate degree. But the dream was always crushed when she would look around the tiny studio apartment shared with her father, knowing he would never be able to afford to send her to university. Unless she got one of the very rare and competitive full scholarships…there was no way it was going to happen. She let her dream fade away, knowing it was going to always be just a dream. Until the Games happened and gave her the chance to be able to afford it. She even got to start her Bachelor's degree early, thanks to her being a victor.

Who would have thought Matla would actually be grateful at going into the Games?

And now here she is…she did it. The eight years of university were harder than the Games ever were. Hell, there were some days when her experiments failed after months and months of planning when she almost was wishing she was back in the arena. The arena was easy to figure out – she had to kill or be killed. But designing her own experiments? Yeah, that was a lot more emotionally draining for her. But she did it, she got them to work and she defended her work.

Nothing can ruin her excitement for today. So when the dean finally finishes her speech and they start bringing up the graduates by program, Matla is grinning in her seat as she impatiently waits for them to reach Electrical Engineering. It can't take more than ten minutes to get through the programs ahead of hers, the families in the crowd cheering for their graduates, but it feels like forever to Matla.

"And now we have Electrical Engineering," the dean says and Matla stands up with the only other graduate from her program this year, and they smile at each other as they head up to the stage. "We have two graduates in this program this year. First, Dr. Hilla Brand."

Hilla gets loud cheers from her friends and family in the crowd as she steps up, letting her advisor put the District Three University hood over her head, in the orange color for engineering, signifying that she has completed her degree, before the dean shakes her hand and gives her the degree.

"And we have Dr. Matla Jarend."

Matla steps up, only expecting to hear the cheers from her father in the crowd since she doesn't have any other family or friends with her, not after cutting out all the people who have tried to use her for her money and status. But she pauses, getting overwhelmed by the sheer volume of cheers for her, before grinning and waving at them as she steps up to her advisor. She supposes it's not every day that District Three's youngest victor earns her doctorate degree…it's a big deal for the District.

"Congrats, _Doctor_," Dr. Oldstone tells her, placing the graduate hood over her head before pulling her into a hug. "I'm so proud of you!"

"Thank you," Matla answers, feeling her eyes welling up in tears of pride as she lets go of her advisor and approaches the dean. She shakes her hand as she accepts the heavy folder containing her degree, unable to stop grinning at all of this.

"Congratulations, Dr. Jarend," the dean tells her.

Matla's face is hurting from grinning as she steps off the stage, clutching the folder to her chest dearly as she returns to her seat. A few more people congratulate her as she walks past them, and Matla thanks them and congratulates them in return, even if she has never met them before. But it doesn't matter, not when all of them have accomplished this feat today.

Matla sits down, looking at the folder on her lap and running a hand over the university insignia on it as they move on to the next degree program. Slowly, she opens it, and feels tears fall down her cheeks – that she quickly wipes away before they can fall on the very fancy piece of paper – as she stares at her name, and the official words.

_She did it._

* * *

_Muir Asturias, District Four, Victor of the 113__th__ Hunger Games_

"Babe, I still think we could have come up with a better name."

"Well yes, Angel, but you wouldn't let me come up with a sea animal pun," Stel tells Muir, putting an arm around her waist as they stare up at the sign they just finished hanging up for tonight's gala. _'The Marine Sea Animal Group 10__th__ Annual Fundraising Gala'. _"But now the abbreviation is the same as Muir and Stelios Asturias."

"Yes, yes, but your puns aren't good. How many bad sea animal names did you call me before finally settling on angel fish?" Muir teases him, watching him start pouting at this, so she quickly kisses him, getting him to stop pouting immediately.

"I'm still sorry about the ones on the no-no list," Stel starts pouting again at this and Muir sighs as she leans her head against his shoulder, feeling bad for making him feel bad. "I just think they are cute animals."

"I know, babe, and I love that part about you," Muir tells him, smiling to herself at how much Stel cares about sea animals and keeping them protected. Who would have thought the Hispanic Hottie teaching her surf lessons all those years ago would really have a heart of gold and not be the big flirt he looks like? Well, he is a flirt, but only to Muir. "That's why we have this annual fundraiser and started our organization, complete with shirts with bad puns." They already wore shirts earlier for the triathlon portion of the fundraiser with his bad puns, with his saying _'If found, please sea Muir'_ and hers saying _'I am Muir.'_

"You always give in to them eventually," Stel tells her, making Muir start pouting this time.

"Only because you are cute," Muir tells her husband, only making him start grinning at her. "Now come on, we have to get ready for people to come in for the dinner."

"Lead the way," Stel gestures her towards the door of the aquarium and she takes his hand, leading him through the tables decorated for tonight's gala. It's a beautiful location to get people to give money for the cause, putting them right next to the animals that need their help. It's a guilt trip that Muir is proud of for coming up – and she knows how much guilt can inspire people to do.

But before Stel can reach the door, he pulls her to a stop next to the manatees, watching as one of the sea cows gently floats past them. "Do you still remember me proposing here?"

"Of course I do," Muir says quietly, a small smile forming on her face at the cute memory. She glances down at the ring on her hand – the ring that her father would have given her mother – and starts laughing about his proposal. "I said absolutely no sea animals involved in the proposal. I thought for sure they would eat the ring."

"I was going to tie it around a manatee's neck and get it to swim over to the glass here," Stel tells her, still sounding so proud of his idea that would have gone terribly wrong. How would he have actually gotten the manatee to swim over in the first place? But she lets this be, knowing he meant well with his plan. The guy just loves manatees and her a lot. She's just glad he didn't lose her family ring by giving it to a sea animal.

"But the little stuffed animal manatee instead was cuter," Muir tells him. "And that plan was less likely to have unexpected problems. And I was able to keep the cute little stuff animal."

"I'm so glad you said yes," Stel responds, looking over at her so he can lean his forehead against hers.

"You act like it was yesterday, not over fourteen years ago," Muir teases him.

Stel contemplates this for a moment, before grinning at her. "We should renew our vows next year for our fifteenth wedding anniversary. We can do it right here and have our parents come."

"Sure, babe," Muir answers him, knowing that it will make him happy to renew their vows. After this many years of being with him, she doesn't think doing this will make any difference in how much she loves him, but she can't resist that adorable smile he is giving her. "But maybe it can just be us. More private and special."

"Whatever you wish, Angel," Stel agrees with her, not looking as if he has any problem with what she suggested. Which he probably doesn't. "As long as I'm with you, I'm happy."

Muir stares up at him for a moment, having to brush a piece of his long hair back from where it's tickling her cheek, just getting a little overwhelmed by how much she needs him in her life. It's always in these moments when he says things like that and she feels like they're back at the start of them dating, with her still being the broken woman filled with guilt who needed someone to keep her grounded in the present, not her past. And he did that, rarely bringing up the Games and always telling her that he's happy doing whatever, as long as he's with her. "Let's do it."

"Do what?" Stel asks her, cutely forgetting already what he even suggested.

"Renew our vows. Just me, you, and some sea cows in the background," Muir tells him and they both laugh as they look over at the manatees, one of them looking curiously out at them. "It will be perfect."

"Of course it will because you're perfect."

Muir stares up at him, feeling her eyes start prickling a little at getting overwhelmed by how much she loves him. "I love you, hubby. What would I do without you?"

* * *

_Letha Calder, District Five, Victor of the 112__th__ Hunger Games_

Letha slowly shuts the nursery door behind her, letting out a sigh of relief when she hears the click of the door shutting and she doesn't make her youngest start crying immediately. She leans her head against the door, exhaustion filling every ounce of her body. She had thought by the third child things would get easier and she would know exactly what to do to calm him down. But baby Leandro is the fussiest of all three of her boys, keeping her and her husband up for most of the night. Yet she absolutely loves her youngest son and wouldn't change anything.

When Letha turns around, she jumps a little at Kyriakos standing there, his arms crossed at her and bags under his eyes from the lack of sleep. "Letha…"

"Shh," she tells him, motioning to the door she just closed. She waves him after her, heading into the kitchen and away from the sleeping boys it took two hours to get asleep. No way is she waking them up with the argument she's been trying to avoid for weeks now, ever since she told her husband her decision to mentor again this year.

"Letha, we need to talk about this," Kyriakos whispers to her as they enter the kitchen and Letha keeps her back to him as she opens the fridge, pretending to look in there for a snack so she can't see the disappointment on her husband's face. "Can you please look at me?"

Letha sighs before grabbing a bottle of juice and shutting the door behind her. "I don't know what you want me to tell you," she tells him quietly as she faces him, taking a long sip of her juice to avoid discussing this with him. She hates getting in arguments with him…and she knows there's a good chance this conversation will end that way.

"Say that you won't mentor this year," Kyriakos pleads with her. He takes a step closer to her so he can grab her free hand. "Please…I can't stand watching how much it destroys you each year you don't bring home a victor."

"I can't say that," Letha whispers to him, feeling her eyes welling up with tears as pain fills her from the years and years of coming home to families she has failed.

"Yes you can," Kyriakos tries to tell her. "Ask Cas or Eos to mentor instead-"

"They mentored enough before me and Aion," Letha interrupts him, refusing to ask the older victors of Five to mentor once more. "This is my responsibility. It's just how it works…you mentor until someone else is young enough to take your place."

"Well that's some bullshit," Kyriakos tells her, making her give him a shocked look from the rare occurrence of him swearing. "You have a newborn son!"

"I'll take Leandro with me," Letha tells him, having already thought through all of this from the moment she started thinking about the Games once more. "It won't be the first time someone has brought their kid with them."

"Who? Who else has brought kids with them?" Kyriakos asks her, clearly not believing her.

"Let's see," Letha says, setting down her juice so she can start counting on her hands. "Lelantos, Sativa…" She starts frowning, unable to think of anyone else.

"Two. Two people, Letha," Kyriakos tells her, shaking his head at this. "Do you think there's a reason why others don't bring their kids with them to a death match?"

"Well I can't just leave him here!" Letha says, her voice raising in frustration. "I'm not leaving you with three boys under the age of five and I'm not changing my mind on mentoring."

They stare at each other for a long minute, both of them clearly hating getting in an argument about this, but it was inevitable. Ever since she had her first son Argos, they have had this argument each year…

"Mommy?"

They both immediately turn to look at the small voice, a smile immediately forming on Letha's face as she looks at her eldest boy. "What's wrong, sweetie?" She asks right away, stepping over to Argos and scooping him and the small blanket he drags with him up.

"I heard loud voices…" Argos tells her, immediately making her guilty for getting in an argument with Kyriakos.

She shares a look with her husband, finding matching guilt on his face that they woke up their son. She silently tells him that their conversation is over, before turning back to Argos and smiling at their son. "Oh everything is fine, sweetie. Let's get you back to sleep."

"Okay," Argos says through a yawn, leaning against her shoulder and putting his small arms around her.

"You're getting so big," Letha tells him, realizing she won't be able to pick him up for too much longer, something that immediately makes her sad. "Daddy is giving you too many cookies."

"No, he doesn't give me enough cookies," Argos says with a giggle, and Letha smiles down at her son as she brings him into his bedroom and holds up her finger to keep him quiet, pointing over at his brother Xander thankfully still asleep on the other side of the room.

Letha tucks Argos back in, her heart still heaving from arguing with her husband. But as she kisses the top of her son's head, she knows this is exactly why she has to keep mentoring each year. She has to do her best to bring someone else home so she doesn't take a child from their parents or stop someone from someday having moments like this with their own child.

And even when she does get another victor home, she won't stop. None of the other victors in Five care about the tributes as much as she does. And they deserve to have someone with them in what could be their final moments that cares.

"Goodnight, sweetie," Letha whispers, running a hand over Argos' wild hair. "Mommy loves you."

* * *

_Jarle Eurydia, District Six, Victor of the 131__st__ Hunger Games_

Six years later and these trips to the Capitol still make him nervous. Not in the way they used to when he was a terrified boy, alone in a big unknown city and receiving treatment for an illness that was threatening his life, desperately clinging onto the sliver of hope that becoming the victor provided him. But now…now he's no longer that boy knowing no one. He has his own family here in the Capitol that has accepted him as one of them, all because Dampero insisted that he would not be alone. But even though he isn't alone now as he walks into the hospital for his yearly check up to make sure the cancer is truly gone, he feels like he's that seventeen year old again.

"You doing okay?"

Jarle looks down at the young girl holding his hand as they wait and she gives him an encouraging smile. Well…she's not quite the twelve year old that she was when her parents first started watching him on his stays in the Capitol. "I'll be fine, Mari."

Mari huffs at this and Jarle knows he's about to get some of her sass, but he's saved by the nurse calling his name. "Jarle? Come with me."

"Come on, Mari," Jarle says as he stands up, keeping her hand in his and leading her back into the patient room. It's become a tradition of sorts for his friend to come with him here, ever since she first came in and offered to sit with him. He can still remember the exact way she asked him if he wanted to color with her because she finds coloring in her mother's tattoos comforting. And he's willing to bet that she has a coloring book tucked away in her bag.

Jarle's directed to sit and a blood sample is quickly drawn, and then it's time for them to wait. Mari hums a little as she sits by his side, letting him sit in silence if he needs it. But in the silence, his thoughts are allowed to run wild, giving him all sorts of terrible thoughts about how his cancer will be back. "Tell me something good."

"Something good?" Mari asks, looking up at him. She absentmindedly adjusts her hat as she thinks. "Well…Iris just found out recently that she's going to be escorting!"

"That's good," Jarle says, smiling at the news about Mari's best friend. He's not as close to Iris as he is to Mari, but she's a kind girl. "Do you know which District? I'm assuming Bee will still be with me in Six?"

"Yep," Mari responds, grinning at the thought of her parent working with Jarle. "She'll be in Five!"

"Ah, with Letha," Jarle smiles at her, Mari's excitement for her best friend being contagious. "She's lucky."

"Hmm, she'd be luckier in Six with you and Uncle Dee Dee," Mari teases, instantly getting laughter out of Jarle at her nickname for Dampero.

"Yes, how could we forget about Uncle Dee Dee?" Jarle jokes, sending them both into a fit of laughter. "Oh he would kill me right now if he knew I was joking about this."

"Nonsense, he loves you as much as he loves me," Mari giggles, giving him a nudge on the arm.

"Well," Jarle says, trying to find an argument for that, but he starts laughing when he can't think of anything. "Yeah, you're right. I should call him that in front of our tributes this year."

"No!" Mari yells and starts laughing loudly at him, and he tries to hold in his own laughter, but soon their both laughing hysterically, with Mari leaning over onto him and clutching her side. Slowly they start to stop their laughing, and Mari keeps her head on his shoulder, picking her feet up onto her chair so she can tuck against his side like old times. "I'm so glad he asked Bee all those years ago to let you stay with us during your treatments."

"Me too," Jarle answers quietly, forever grateful to Dampero for giving him his second family, among other reasons. They fall into a comfortable silence, sitting together as they wait to hear the verdict on Jarle. Mari soon pulls out a marker and starts doodling on his arm, poor imitations of the flower tattoos on her mother Sonja's arms. "They're great," Jarle tells her.

Mari scoffs at this and shakes her head. "Don't lie to me," Mari teases him, laughing a little. "You can say I suck at drawing, you know. I'm not the naïve twelve year old I was when we first met."

"No, you're just a sassy eighteen year old now," Jarle teases in return, getting a pout from Mari that only lasts a few seconds until she starts laughing again. "See, you know I'm right."

"Okay yes, yes, I have a little bit of sass," Mari tells him, proving his point. "But you forgot to add smart, kind-"

Mari is cut off by the door opening and she sits up as Jarle's doctor walks in, carrying his clipboard with the results on it. Jarle tenses up right away, nervously looking up at him. "Hi doc…what's the news?"

"Well," he says as he brings his small rolling stool over to sit in front of them. He opens up Jarle's folder and scans over it. "I'm happy to say that you have officially been in remission for five years."

* * *

_Danila Braeden, District Ten, Victor of the 97__th__ Hunger Games _

Danila forces herself to smile as she opens the front door, staring out at Johan as he walks up the path to her house. Normally she always looks forward to their weekly dinners, but today she is just feeling like absolute shit. This cold seemed to come out of nowhere and she woke up struggling to get the energy to get out of bed. And the coughing, that's the worst part about this. But no damn cold is going to get her to cancel their weekly dinner. No way in hell. They've only cancelled three times over the last twenty years they decided to start this. "Hey Johan, I would hug you but, well, I don't want to get you sick," Danila tells them with a laugh, but it quickly turns into coughs as her throat stings.

Johan immediately is giving her a concerned look as he approaches and she holds up a hand to keep him from reaching out to her, not going to let him get sick as well. "Danny, we could have cancelled the dinner if you're sick…"

"Nonsense," Danila says, coughing one last time before clearing her throat and standing up straight again. She gives him a reassuring smile, but she knows Johan is skeptical of her. Or maybe he's just being his normal self that cares too much about everyone. "Come on, I made my casserole."

"Yeah because that's the easiest thing you can cook well," Johan tells her and Danila shrugs at this as she leads him inside her house. He's not wrong. "I'm not staying late today, you need to rest."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Danila tells him stubbornly as they head into the kitchen and she opens the oven to check on the food. A blast of smoke from in the oven hits her, making her grab a towel and start fanning it away from her face. "Shit," she says as Johan grabs oven mitts to take out the casserole, and Danila starts coughing at the smoke in her lungs. She bends over, her lungs burning as she keeps coughing but unable to get the smoke out of them. She holds the towel up to her face, trying to block the smoke from getting into her lungs.

Danila steps back as Johan assesses the disaster of her food. "Well, I think something just fell to the bottom of the oven and the actual food isn't burnt. So not a complete – are you alright?" Johan immediately is concerned over her as she tries to hold back more coughs, her eyes watering from the tickling in her lungs.

Danila nods her head before stepping back. "I need some fresh air, I'll be right back." She ignores him as she all but runs to the back door and steps outside, leaving the door open to air out the smoke inside. She starts coughing once more and when she pulls the towel away from her face, her hands shake as she stares at the blood splatters there. That cannot be good…

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah, fine, everything is fine!" Danila says quickly as she folds up the towel, hiding the blood spots. She wipes her face as she hears Johan approaching, not wanting to make him worry about this. She's sure it's nothing too major and something they'll be able to fix. So why make him worry about it now? He always worries too much about her, making sure she isn't on her own too much or making sure she gets outside. He doesn't need to know about this when she'll get it fixed up in a week. She smiles at him as best as she can when he steps outside, worry all over his face. "The smoke just really tickled my lungs."

Johan looks like he doesn't want to believe her for a moment, before finally accepting her excuse. "Okay…but we're still having an early night so you can get some sleep."

"Yes, dad," Danila teases him, making him shake his head at her as he tries to fight off a smile. "Geez some days it feels like you were the mentor for me, not the other way around."

"Yeah well with how stubborn you are, someone needs to care for you," Johan responds to her as he crosses his arms. Danila rolls her eyes at this, just proving his point. "Come on, we'll eat outside to give time for the smoke to clear out."

"Alrighty," Danila answers, giving him a reassuring smile, even as she feels her lungs tickling with the need to cough once more. "And then we need to discuss the Games starting up."

Johan starts frowning right away at this and he lets out a loud sigh as he stares down at her. "Do we have to? We still have two weeks…"

"Yes, we do," Danila tells him, shaking her head at him trying to avoid their yearly reality. "It's been too long since Ten had a victor. We need to figure out just how we are going to change that."

"Yes, because we haven't figured that out in the how many decades of working together?" Johan sarcastically responds before sighing once more at her. "Danny, you are so stubborn."

"This stubbornness is going to get us home another victor," Danila answers as she turns to head back into the house to grab the food. "Now come on, this casserole isn't going to eat itself."

* * *

**So there we have our second half of the mentors! This group has a lot of my favorite victors so it's always fun for me to write them. I don't got much to say here lol, other then there's the mentors XD Most of these ones are familiar names if you're reading my other stories.**

**As for subs, they are still open and I am setting _August 31st_ as the official deadline! So still plenty of time to get those tributes in! I could definitely use more non-featured tributes at this point.**

**We have one more prologue left! We'll check in one more time with Seraphim and Lisia before we get rolling with the intros! That prologue will probably be up September 1st and I'll have the full tribute list then. So sit tight and we'll be there soon!**


	4. Prologue 4: Turn to Dust or to Gold

**Prologue IV:**

_Six Months Ago_

_Lisia Arune, Head Gamemaker_

"We are officially at the six month out mark."

Lisia groans at this as Fabio hands her a coffee – his turn to do a coffee run for the two of them, Mara, and now Seraphim – and leans her head down against the desk. "I'm not ready yet," Lisia mumbles against her desk, overwhelmed by the ambitious task she set out for herself. "It feels like there's still so much to do."

"Well there is a lot to do still," Fabio answers as he sits on the edge of her desk, earning him a glare from the Head Gamemaker. "Just keeping it real with you. But you've done this how many years now?"

"Don't call out my age," Lisia warns him as she sits up, taking a long sip of her coffee and sighing in contentment. She glances over at Seraphim, finding him still watching what she does with that wide-eyed and shocked look he's had since day one. "What do you think should be our highest priority right now?"

"Me?" Seraphim asks in confusion and Lisia gives him a look that it's obvious she's talking to him. He takes a long sip of his coffee, blushing in embarrassment and trying to think about how to answer to her. "Umm… Well, arena construction is on track to be done next month, so not that. Which is probably the most important thing. I would say…the muttations?"

"Indeed," Lisia agrees, letting out a sigh as she thinks about the absurd challenge she has placed on her Gamemakers this year, all because she wanted to end her time as Head Gamemaker with her most elaborate idea yet. Bigger than her Quell – and that's really saying something. Because at the end of the day, people are going to remember her for her last Games, not the many years of Games she has been the lead for. Her last Games and the Quell. Those will be her accomplishments people talk about for years. She already achieved it with the Quell, so just one more year left…

"You're the one that said 'Make it bigger than the Quell'," Fabio tells her when he sees how exhausted she is just thinking about everything that needs to get done.

"Well yeah, this year will be my legacy," Lisia retorts, taking a long sip of coffee. "So Seraphim, how do you propose we make sure everyone gets their shi- oh what now?!" Lisia yells at the knock on the door before putting her head down on her desk and lightly hitting her head on it. "This is why I can't get anything done."

Lisia can hear Fabio walking over to the door to check who is there, but she keeps her head down as he talks to whoever it is in hushed whispers. She shuts her eyes, wishing she could just take a nap right at her desk, but she can't. Not with the sheer amount of work that still needs to get done. And if this is how she's feeling six months out…she doesn't even want to know what she'll be like in a couple months.

Fabio clears his throat and Lisia slowly picks up her head, pushing back her hair that's fallen all over to stare up at him. She has to blink a few times, her exhaustion making it a struggle to just stay awake. "So um…bad news."

"Of course it's bad news," Lisia mumbles and puts her head back down. She rests her forehead on the desk and shakes her head at him. "When is it ever good news?" She sighs before sitting up properly to stare at him, noticing Mara hesitating in the doorway, nervously wringing her hands together as she looks at the Head Gamemaker. "Just tell me."

Mara sighs as she leans against the doorframe. "We just did a test run of the launch with the early mutt prototypes to see how the arena is coming together and…catastrophic failure."

Lisia simply stares at her for a long moment, too exhausted to even process what that means. "Can you be a bit more specific?"

Mara nervously laughs and Lisia knows whatever she says next won't be good. "Well…" Mara scratches the back of her neck as she avoids meeting Lisia's eyes. "Some failed to even launched, some didn't stay in their respective zones, and some outright attacked each other."

"Of fucking _course_," Lisia mutters angrily, picking up her pen and throwing it over at a plant on the edge of the room. "It's only six months out, why should I expect the preliminary mutt prototypes to be working? It's not like they're a major part of the arena design or anything like that. Nope, maybe we should just not have any mutts at all!"

"Lisia…" Fabio says carefully and she just starts shaking her head at him, not in the mood for him to tell her everything is going to be alright.

"Don't even start," Lisia tells him before turning to Seraphim. "Alright Seraphim, today's lesson is whatever date you think something will be done by, expect your Gamemakers to extend that," Lisia sarcastically tells her young trainee, but raises an eyebrow when he actually writes that down. She shares a look with Fabio at this, who just shrugs a little, before she turns back to Seraphim, finding him watching her attentively and ready for whatever she says next. Her rage dissipates as quickly as it came on as she watches him, an idea slowly forming. "You know…how about you go with Mara and find out what went wrong and report back to me later today."

"Me? Really?" Seraphim asks her immediately and Lisia nods her head at him.

"Yes, really," Lisia tells him. "If you're going to take over someday, well, you need to start getting used to doing things that the Head Gamemaker does. So get to it."

Seraphim rapidly nods his head before pushing his glasses up from where they started slipping down the bridge of his nose. "Yes, of course, ma'am, I'll let you know right away what happened."

Lisia watches him jump up from the chair and head over to Mara, who pats him on the shoulder as he walks past her before giving Lisia a surprised look. Lisia just shrugs at her so Mara turns back to Seraphim and gives him a smile. "Come on, I'll take you over to the disaster."

Mara shuts the door behind them and Lisia shuts her eyes as she shakes her head. "Why can't anything ever go right?" Lisia asks herself quietly before opening her eyes and pointing at Fabio, "Don't answer that."

"I won't," he answers, holding his hands up defensively. "I'm just shocked you relinquished control to him," Fabio tells her and Lisia lets out a sigh at this as she goes to take another sip of coffee, only finding it empty. "Are you feeling okay?"

"No," Lisia answers him honestly. "I'm overwhelmed and there's still so much to do and I'm worried I am trying to do more than is feasible. And now…I don't want to end up being remembered like Akakios because I rushed things…I want to be remembered for being the one who made an epic final arena…"

"And you will do that," Fabio reassures her, but Lisia finds it hard to believe him. "I'm serious, Lisia. I've known you for too many years to lie to your face. We're going to get it done. _We_ will, not just you_._ Stop trying to do everything on your own and ask us to help you out. Otherwise, you're just going to work yourself to exhaustion and then you won't get anything done."

Lisia knows he's right…but it's so hard for her to do that. So much rests on her shoulders and if she does it herself, she knows it will be done correctly. "I…I'll try…"

"Good," Fabio pats her shoulder, looking way too happy right now for her tired state. "And give that kid some actual work to do instead of just following you around. I'm pretty sure he's started to stress drink coffee from getting secondhand stress from you."

"The coffee habit he gets from you," Lisia teases him and Fabio shrugs as she grows serious, tapping her fingers on her desk. "Do you think he can do it?"

"Be Head Gamemaker someday?" Fabio asks and Lisia absentmindedly nods her head. "I think so. He needs to get a bit of a spine and stop trying to please everyone, but not all of us can start out as fiery as you."

"Right…" Lisia agrees quietly, not sure how else to respond.

"Do you think so?"

"I…" Lisia hesitates as she thinks over Seraphim's willingness to do what she asks of him. He was so nervous when he first started here and Lisia was worried she made a mistake with him and the people that recommended him were wrong. But slowly he started asking more questions and participating more and more in the conversation with the Gamemakers. "Give it some time and…I think he will. He needs to find his confidence and then I think he'll create some great Games."

"Better than yours?" Fabio teases her and Lisia cuts him a glare, only making him laugh at her reaction. "Hey, it's flattering to see the student surpass the teacher. It certainly happened with you, so why can't it happen with him?"

"True," Lisia says with a sigh before leaning back in her chair. "But to do that, we need to make sure these Games end well. If not, there won't be any legacy of mine to compare to."

* * *

**There we have it, our last prologue! Another check in with Lisia and Seraphim as they start getting closer to the Games actually starting and of course things are a mess lol. When are things not a mess with the Gamemakers? XD** **But for now, it is time to shift into the intros! We'll be doing the alternating order like I did in Wayward, so the order is: 1, 11, 2, 10, 3, 9, 4, 8, 5, 7, 6. But of course, you're all here to see the list.**

**Thank you to everyone that submitted a tribute for the story! I had 40 subs total so obviously I could not take every tribute. If you would like to know why I didn't accept your tribute, feel free to send me a PM and I can go into further detail. But thank you for being understanding. I picked the tributes that I feel will be the best and easiest for me to write. I'm doing this as a way to destress with a very busy PhD program and I don't want it to feel like a chore writing a tribute I don't fully connect with. It won't make me happy and that will show with the quality of the writing, and that's not fair to the submitters. This is for fun and if you're not happy with that, I'm sorry, but at the end of the day there's not much I can do because I'm writing the story as a hobby and for my own happiness. **

**Anyways, here is the list. Make sure to look at every spot because I did move a few tributes around! And underlined tributes are those in the featured spots!**

**_District One:_**

Nativity Nadal, 18 - CelticGames4

Rodrick Tang, 18 – AmericanPi

Escort: Sextia Quirinus – Santiago. Poncini20

**_District Two:_**

Marian Lilley, 18 - TheEngineeringGames

Kaz Aberdeen, 18 – VeneratedArt

Escort: Flannery Escouvier – TheEngineeringGames

**_District Three:_**

Sasha Kolster, 16 - TheEngineeringGames

Samis McCree, 17 – Professor R. J. Lupin

Escort: Joyce Syllers – Platrium

**_District Four:_**

Orin Rensch, 18 - goldie031

Aberforth Barringer, 18 – TheMaeflyProject

Escort: Nelena Aquillen – dsalazz

**_District Five:_**

Margaery Fox, 15 - LordShiro

Artem Nobyl, 14 – TheEngineeringGames

Escort: Iris Roseau – HogwartsDreamer113

**_District Six:_**

Iroha Kinoshita, 18 - 66samvr

Dresden Kahlo, 17 – House Elf Liberation Front

Escort: Belinda Maxwell – CelticGames4

**_District Seven:_**

Betula Washington, 12 – Santiago. Poncini20

Pascal Flores, 12 – TheEngineeringGames

Escort: Winona Samson – TheEngineeringGames

**_District Eight:_**

Gwenith Drezzel, 15 – Brooke2214

Grey Pendleton, 17 – Little Knight Mik

Escort: Maeryn Callahan – Little Knight Mik

**_District Nine:_**

Asha Kader, 18 - CelticGames4

Laine Lawson, 15 – dsalazz

Escort: Agapios Wheatley Hallorian – CelticGames4

**_District Ten:_**

Ally Ishmael, 14 – foxfox12

Sissel Wetherburn, 17 – SinfonianLegend

Escort: Icarus Clo – misfit-right-in

**_District Eleven:_**

Jendaya Barrett, 18 - HogwartsDreamer113

Grant Gallitan-Montgomery, 14 – ray. 51

Escort: Priscilla Rhodes – foxfox12

**Again, thank you for understanding that I chose the tributes that I am going to be the happiest writing with this story. I'm really excited to start writing this group of tributes! I have exciting things planned for the arena and I know this group is going to be a lot of fun. **

**Hopefully the first intro will be up before the end of September, but no guarantees because life happens and we're reaching the Games in Senseless and we all know that will probably be where most of my writing motivation is for XD**

**I will have the blog updated soon with all of the tribute and escort info, I just haven't gotten around to it yet lol. Definitely before the first reaping is up!**


	5. District 1: An Art That's Hard To Teach

**A/N: Before we get started, I wanted to list the trigger warnings for ALL of the intros now. I know the importance of the warnings, but would like to keep part of each intro a surprise by not revealing the trigger for the specific chapter. So if you wish to be warned about which tribute has any of the following warnings, please send me a PM and I will let you know.**

**Triggers: Abuse (physical, emotional, mental), sexual assault, homophobia, transphobia, strong dysphoria, sexism, and strong sexual content.**

* * *

**Chapter 1:**

_Rodrick Tang, 18, District One_

_One Month Before The Reaping_

Rodrick knew exactly what he was going to say to them when they showed up. He had rehearsed it for a week now and his mother approved. If she approved, surely he wasn't going to mess this up. One last final test to prove to her and himself that he can go into the Games and won't hesitate to do exactly what needs to get done.

But he had expected to have more time before they showed up at the house.

It's all planned out. All he has to do is keep his emotions in check and he will get through this just fine. So Rodrick fakes surprise as he opens the front door and finds two Peacekeepers standing there, one holding a small pocketbook and pen, ready to take down whatever Rodrick has to say. "Officer Hendrik."

"Rodrick Tang," he answers, holding out his hand politely to shake their hands in greeting. After all, he's expected to be a model citizen since he will be representing the District in the Games.

Hendrik shakes his hand as the other Peacekeeper looks up from their notes. "Tang? I've heard about you, kid. You're volunteering, right? With that Nadal girl."

"Tiv. And yes, I am," Rodrick tells them. "But I wouldn't root for Tiv since I'm going to win over her."

"Ah nice, you are lucky kid," the Peacekeeper points at him with their pen. "I tried to get picked three years ago. Came in fifth place overall."

Hendrik clears his throat as he glances back, "Cary."

"Yes, sorry sir," Cary nods their head, realizing they were getting off track. "The call."

Hendrik nods at them before turning back to Rodrick. "Still new on the job. Anyways, kid, we got a call that someone heard screaming coming from here."

"Screaming?" Rodrick asks carefully, keeping his face clear of emotions. "Ohhh, this is a big misunderstanding."

"Please, tell us how," Hendrik says as he crosses his arms at Rodrick.

"Of course," Rodrick tells him before stepping to the side and gesturing inside, all part of the plan to make himself look innocent. "You can come in, if you would like."

"That's alright. If this really is a misunderstanding, this shouldn't take long."

Rodrick pauses for a moment, not having rehearsed the plan going this way in his head, but soon nods his head, refusing to let them know he is bothered. After all, his mother has always taught him to stay adaptive to the situation. "Very well. But I'm afraid you're going to realize soon that your time could have been spent elsewhere."

"Well right now it seems like you're adding to that time," Hendrik tells him, arms crossed as he stares at Rodrick.

"My apologies," Rodrick answers, even if he's not apologetic. But with Hendrik staring at him through that cold, blank mask, a bead of sweat starts to form on the back of his neck that the Peacekeeper can see right through him. But Rodrick quickly pushes down the bubble of guilt forming in his stomach, refusing to let his emotions get in the way of this. This is the ultimate test to show himself and his mother that he's ready for the Games. "So you see, Mr. Fisher has been out of town for a couple weeks for business. He's our neighbor and asked if I could watch the house for him while he's away."

_There was no business trip for Mr. Fisher. That crotchety old man rarely left his house. And he most definitely wouldn't have asked Rodrick to watch the house, even if he had gone away for business. Rodrick had carefully picked the day that he was going to visit Mr. Fisher, and carefully picked Mr. Fisher for this reason exactly._

"So I have been stopping by every other day just to make sure everything is safe and to water his plants. He doesn't have kids so he cares for his plants like he would children."

_It was a Tuesday evening, after Rodrick had finished up his training for the day in the Academy. It would have been suspicious if he was there in the morning or afternoon, but evening? Totally reasonable. But his training wasn't done for the day, just because he was done at the Academy. He had the biggest part of his training left to do today._

"I dropped my training stuff off at home first before coming over here right away because I knew if I started doing other things, I wouldn't want to leave. And I don't want to say I was going to take care of Mr. Fisher's plants and not, you know?"

_Rodrick had stopped home first after training to grab supplies and walked over to Mr. Fisher's house, carefully concealing what he was bringing with him in the pocket of his coat and his backpack. Thankfully, it was a cold May day, giving him the perfect excuse to wear the jacket without getting questioned. He knocked on the door three times and waited a couple seconds before trying the handle. When it opened right away, Rodrick held back a smirk as he glanced around, before entering the house quietly. _

"So I let myself in with the key Mr. Fisher let me borrow while he's away," Rodrick says as he pulls the key out of his pocket and dangles it, adding further evidence to his cover. "And went about my business."

_Rodrick slowly walked into the house and began looking through some of the doorways for where Mr. Fisher could be. He paused for a moment to take a few deep breaths and calm the pit of nerves forming in his stomach. He had no reason to be nervous about this. Emotions would just get in the way of what he has to do. That's what his mother has always told him. _

"I started with the kitchen – the herbs Mr. Fisher uses for cooking are his most valued, so I always check them first. Then made my way to the dining room and the living room."

_Once his nerves were suppressed, Rodrick continued through the house until he started to hear the faint sounds of the television playing the daily news. He reached into his jacket as he approached the room and hesitated in the doorway, staring at the back of old man's head as he sat in the old armchair, facing the television. Now that it was about to happen, the nerves skyrocketed in him, much to his annoyance. Why can't he just keep his emotions down like his mother has always told him to do? If he can't do it now, how will he ever do it in the Games? He had to do this. He had to prove to himself _and_ his mother that he can win the Games. After everything she had done for him…he needed to do this._

"And when I got to the living room, I got spooked by something scurrying across the floor."

"You got scared by a tiny animal?" Hendrik asks him, his voice not quite sounding too full of belief. "And you're going to volunteer for the Games?"

"Anyone would get spooked by something they didn't expect to be there," Rodrick answers as calmly as possible, but Hendrik questioning him has started to make him a little anxious that they can see right through him. "The rat had creepy little eyes and it spooked me. I scream loudly when I get spooked, so you see, that was probably the scream that the neighbors heard."

_There was a reason that Rodrick had chosen Mr. Fisher. Something about that creepy vulture eye of his, the one not covered by an eyepatch, had always unnerved him. He felt like he could always feel it following him as he walked by Mr. Fisher's house. That and the lack of people who cared about this sorry old man's existence. _

_Yet Rodrick hesitated in the doorway for several minutes, his stupid emotions getting the better of him. This reason was why Rodrick came up with this plan. He didn't want to find out in the middle of a life or death situation in the Games that his emotions would get the better of him and he wouldn't kill when it absolutely mattered. If he couldn't do this now… But as he pictured the disappointment from his mother if he didn't do this after she approved of this plan, Rodrick stepped into the room. He refused to disappoint her after all she has done for him over the years. Mr. Fisher turned at the sound of footsteps approaching him and let out a scream right as Rodrick drove his knife through that vulture eye, filled immediately with satisfaction that the eye would no longer unnerve him. _

"So you see, sir, this is all a big misunderstanding," Rodrick gives a fake laugh, all part of the plan in his cover up story. But as he stands there, a breeze goes through the house and Rodrick's smile falters as he smells some of the bleach he used to clean up the blood. It's an unnatural scent and with it, it brings guilt that he did something terrible.

_Rodrick had thrown up at the blood splattering him on the face, not expecting it to feel so…so warm. But as Mr. Fisher's screams died down, guilt was starting to fill Rodrick. He just murdered an old man, right in his home… But he wasn't an innocent man. He was always staring at Rodrick with that vulture eye like he knew what Rodrick was planning. No one was going to miss him. And Rodrick needed to know he could kill and get away unscathed before the Games._

"Did we really get called here because this guy screamed over a rat?" Cary asks Hendrik, not doing anything to hid the exasperation in their voice. "Here I was thinking I was finally going to be involved in some exciting murder mystery case."

"Quiet, Cary," Hendrik turns back to scold them. "We're in District One. Most of the cases aren't going to be murders."

Rodrick lets out a nervous laugh at the mention of murders as Hendrik turns back to look at him. He can picture clearly in his mind the smell of the blood from Mr. Fisher as he lay there dying before Rodrick started to hide the body under the floor boards. He had thrown up a little in his mouth when he had to dismember his legs to make the body fit. He wasn't sure if he was going to be able to do that in the arena…but hopefully he won't have to. All he'll have to do is stab people, just like he did to Mr. Fisher…right?

"No murders here, nope. Just a boy scared by a rat. Nothing to be concerned about," Rodrick says quickly, growing nervous under the blank gaze of the Peacekeepers.

Hendrik continues to stare at Rodrick for long, anxious seconds, making him start to be certain that he knows. He knows that Rodrick didn't come here just to water some plants. He must see some blood on Rodrick that he missed when cleaning up or can smell the blood and chemicals in the house. His lie wasn't good enough. _They know._ They know he killed a mostly innocent man and he's trying to cover it up. "Do you know when Mr. Fisher will return?"

_Never._ He's never going to return and it is Rodrick's fault. What if he does have a family that comes looking? "I think," Rodrick starts stumbling over his words as the guilt in him stops him from being able to think rationally and remember his story. "Be-before…he should be back before-"

The Peacekeepers stare at him as he starts stuttering, and Rodrick knows they know he is guilty.

"I killed him," Rodrick blurts out as the guilt in him becomes too much. Hendrik immediately moves into action, pressing Rodrick against the wall and holding onto his hands to stop him from hurting them. But he won't. He already proved to himself that he couldn't do it. He couldn't push aside the guilt to focus on what has to be done. And once he lets the guilt get the better of him, there's no chance of him staying rational and stopping the emotion from controlling him. "I killed him to prove to myself that I could kill in the arena and get out unscathed. But I can't. I can't kill without guilt, as much as I tried."

He's a failure. He knew he hadn't believed that he was truly ready to go into the arena and win. He couldn't be that cold person his mother has done her best to raise him to be. He couldn't shut his emotions down like she always told him to do. He _knew_ his guilt would get the better of him. And now, instead of being the chosen volunteer, he's going to rot in a prison cell for the rest of his life.

The rest of the evening passes in a blur as Rodrick is dragged to the prison. He doesn't struggle against them, knowing this is his punishment for not being good enough.

Only one person came to see him in jail, and she only came by once. His mother stared at him with such disdain in her gaze, and Rodrick was filled with immense guilt that he had let her down. That he was too weak to do what he said he would do.

"I'm disappointed in you."

That was the only thing she said to him and Rodrick knew that was the last time he was ever going to see her again, unless he found some way to prove to her he wasn't going to disappoint her like everyone else in her life. And knowing he would have to live for the rest of the life rotting away in this jail cell with the knowledge that he is just another person that has let his mother down…he can't do that.

Somehow, he has to find a way to still go into the Games and prove he can win.

* * *

_Sextia Quirinus, Escort for District One_

Sextia used to be able to make herself pretend that she wasn't bored with this job anymore, but after over ten years of being stuck with the miserable District scum, she can't pretend anymore that she isn't miserable here. She doesn't understand how she hasn't been moved up to the Gamemaker team yet. But no one has helped her get there. No one is helping her at all. Her loneliness she'll hide to these peasants. But her disdain? No way.

"Hello, or whatever," Sextia waves her hand at the crowd, scowl on her face as she stares down at the boring people of One. "Let's just get going with this so I can get out of this trash place sooner and back to the Capitol."

Sextia stares over at the first glass ball full of names, her hands on her hips, and contemplating the point of even picking one of the names. It never matters what miserable person she picks. "You know what? Screw it, I'm not picking a name. Someone is just going to volunteer so I'm not going to waste my time. So whoever is going to volunteer, just do it now."

The crowd looks a little confused for a moment, before a raspy voice calls out confidently above them. The girl who called out also towers above them as she pushes through the front of the crowd, dazzling smile on her face as she adjusts her floral print dress and pushes up the sleeves of her cardigan before taking to the stage. Her tall heels are loud on the stairs and when she reaches the top and stands next to Sextia, she towers completely over the old escort as she leans down to the microphone. "Nativity Nadal, but you can call me Tiv!"

She steps back, hiccupping a little bit, as Sextia looks her up and down. "Didn't know District One was choosing giraffes to volunteer."

"What did you say?" Tiv says as she reaches down towards her shoes, but Emilio jumps forward and grabs onto her arm, whispering something to her that makes her stop trying to take off her shoe.

Sextia sneers at her as Tiv smooths out her straightened black hair before crossing her arms at the escort. "Pathetic," Sextia mutters to herself. "Now the other volunteer, get on up here!"

"I volunteer!" A cool voice calls out, just before a second person also calls out those two words, and commotion breaks out in the crowd as the two boys race to be the first one up on the stage, per the rules or whatever the hell District One does in this rare situation. The first boy to break through the crowd is running towards the stairs before the second boy, wearing a prison jumpsuit and getting followed by Peacekeepers, tackles him to the ground. The prisoner starts beating the other boy over the head with his handcuffs, until one of the victors stands up and calls down to him, stopping him before he beats the boy to death. Which is to Sextia's disappointment, because at least that would have made these boring Reapings a bit less dull.

"Rodrick, stop!"

Rodrick looks up at the sound of his name being called and finds Thetis at the edge of the stage, looking down at him with her arms crossed. He is still holding down the other boy as he lays there bleeding, trying futilely to fight Rodrick off of him. "Yes, Thetis?"

"Stop beating Jaime, you've already done enough damage murdering someone before the Reaping," Thetis tells him and Rodrick slowly looks down at the other boy, before the Peacekeepers pull him off of Jaime. They look up at the victor, waiting for her decision on what to do with Rodrick, and she pinches the bridge of her nose as she takes her time thinking. "What the hell am I supposed to do now that the second chosen volunteer is out of commission?"

"I can go!" A voice calls out from the crowd and Rodrick turns to glare over at them.

"No way in hell, Devon," Thetis calls out to the boy. "I'm not letting you embarrass our District. Just…everyone let me think for a moment."

"Let me volunteer," Rodrick tells her, voice cold and emotionless as he steps around Jaime as one of his friends comes forward to help him up, not giving the boy he just beat a second glance. "You chose me first for a reason. Let me prove myself."

"Why can things never go to plan?" Thetis mutters to herself before she stares down at him for a few long seconds, before turning back to the victors on the stage with her. "Who's mentoring him?"

A few of the victors quickly shake their heads as Rodrick takes to the stage, looking cold and determined. "You're making the right choice, Thetis."

"I'll wait and make that decision for myself," Thetis says sharply back to him, still not looking too pleased about this. "And someone unhandcuff him, he's not much good to us like this. And who the hell is going to mentor him?"

The victors are silent for a long moment before one finally sighs and slowly raises her hand. "I'll do it," Dracana says and the others trained victors give her varying looks of disgust, even all these years after her victory.

"So, a murderer is the best you have to offer?" Sextia asks District One.

"Yes, someone who has proven before that they can do what is necessary to win the Games," Rodrick answers her as he rubs his wrists now that they are free of handcuffs. "Rodrick Tang," he tells the crowd. "Remember that name. It's going to be the name of your next victor."

* * *

**There we have it, our first intro! Big thank yous to _AmericanPi_ for Rodrick, _CelticGames4_ for Tiv, and _santiago. poncini20_ for Sextia! So as you can see, I went for a bit of a different style with writing Rodrick's POV, but I think the in story flashbacks were the best way to show the difference between his cover up story and what actually went down! As for Tiv, I've decided that we're going to see all the non-featured tributes for the first time in a POV from each of the featured tributes for the train rides. It's too hard to work some of these tributes into the intros for the featured tributes, so we'll see all of them later! And I know these intros are shorter than the Wayward ones were, but I just don't think I can keep up consistent quality at that length for all eleven intros, and that isn't fair to the submitters.**

**So as always, I would love to hear your thoughts about Rodrick! I know his intro was pretty backstory heavy, but it was necessary. We're going to see a lot more of his personality as we get into the pre-Games stuff. And honestly, a lot of the tributes are not very good like Rodrick so buckle up, it's going to be quite the dark story. **

**And it is that time once again to start up the Random Questions for each chapter! These will give you an additional five (5) sponsor points with your review! Sometimes they're related to the chapter, sometimes they're whatever random question pops into my head lol.**

**RQ#1: **Well, since it's October (best month of the year, but I'm a little biased because birthday month), what's your favorite kind of candy?

**Also I will be updating the blog with each intro with the newly introduced tributes. That way we can keep some info secret about some of the tributes, like if anyone volunteers unexpectedly. So D1 will be up soon! Probably by time you get to this point reading lol.**

**Next update is going to be a little bit, but I can give you an exact date: November 3rd. If you're wondering why, just look at the submitter and what I did with the D5 intros in Senseless last year lol XD So I will see you all then!**


	6. District 11: In A Black Dress

**A/N: Trigger warning for this chapter.**

* * *

**Chapter 2:**

_Jendaya 'Jenny' Barrett, 18, District Eleven_

_One Week Before The Reaping_

If someone asked Jenny to describe this party with one word, she would go with fake. Which is exactly what the people here aimed for. All of them were just dripping in fakeness. No one in the upper class of Eleven actually showed their true selves. From the moment they all stepped through the door into the large ranch house that's all Jenny's now, they were all apologies and 'Oh I'm so sorry about Kane' or 'It must be so tough to keep running things, how brave you are!' But once the wine started flowing, it was as if they completely forgotten about Kane, even though he's only been dead for three months. All they cared about was impressing the people still living and getting some of the best wine around for free.

Of course, they only saw the side of Kane that he wanted them to see. Jenny was fooled by that side too when she first met him. It was easy to fall for Kane's honeyed words and sweet promises – and, of course, the wealth he had being the owner of Eleven's largest winery. Jenny was caught up in the glamour of it all until it was too late to get out of the marriage, too late to get away from Kane. But he's gone now and Jenny is still here. So who's the real winner in their marriage?

But Jenny isn't much better than the people here and she doesn't care about being selfish. After everything, she deserves to be concerned about herself. And here she is, standing in her black dress and being the ever gracious host that Kane taught her to be, working the room and giving kind smiles to everyone, a comforting hand on the shoulder here, a little bit of a laugh there – but not too much – and maybe a little bit of a hair flip to draw attention to her bare shoulders. She's thrived in this new role of hosting parties and she has missed it over the last three months, but if there was one thing Kane taught her, it was appearances are everything. Well…that and to never let anyone knock her down again.

Everything about the party was simultaneously different while remaining the same. The crowd was the same group she's been entertaining for months since she first started dating Kane and was whisked away from poverty to the upper class. There's Captain Terra of the Peacekeepers, drinking more wine than he should while his husband stands next to him, watching the glass continued to get filled and his husband's face grow redder as he hopes he doesn't do anything embarrassing. There's the group of shopkeepers making bets as they play cards, their voices growing louder as the night – and the wine – keeps going on. There's Zahid Arntz, the mayor's son, surrounded by a group of people all vying for the attention of undoubtedly the most important person here tonight. It's the usual group of influential people that Kane always invited to the dinner parties they would host. And while they pretended to be apologetic at first, once the wine started flowing, they went back to being their normal selves that only care about their appearance and being better than the others at the party.

Jenny is the one that's different now. She didn't have to carefully choose what she wore tonight to make sure Kane wouldn't accuse her of showing too much or to hide her bruises. She could wear that red lipstick she always loved. She could be herself – at least, the version she wants everyone else to see. And that thought alone brings a smirk to her lips as she takes a sip of wine. She could get used to this new life free from Kane but still with his wealth.

"How are you doing?"

"Hmm?" Jenny asks, getting brought out of her thoughts as she glances over at Rain, the only one here that Jenny would actually call a friend. But seeing her with her small son on her hip just brings a stab of pain to her heart, knowing what she'll never have now. But she can't let anyone know what happened to her. She can't let them know this weakness of hers so they can exploit it and hurt her even more. Suddenly the wine she's sipping grows bitter in her mouth, knowing she shouldn't have been drinking this if things hadn't gone wrong… If the wine wasn't the reason in the first place that she's now here, facing regret and blaming herself.

But Rain doesn't know this and Jenny will be damned if she ever lets her know. So she forces a smile on her face, careful to not look too happy about Kane being gone – Rain wouldn't understand why. "Oh, you know, I'm hanging in there," Jenny says carefully, letting herself start pouting a little and give a small sigh. "It's good to be around people to keep myself busy, but…it's still a reminder of him…"

Jenny isn't completely lying to Rain. The people here _are_ reminding her of Kane. But they're reminding her of how much better off she is now without him. Why would she be sad when he's not here drinking too much wine, just to get too angry later that night when everyone has left? Hell could freeze over before she ever missed him.

"It's going to be okay," Rain says gently as she puts a hand on Jenny's shoulder and gives it a squeeze. "If you ever need to get out of the house, you are more than welcome to come spend time with me. You can even bring Hunter with you."

A chance to spend time in the mayor's house with Rain? Jenny would be dumb to turn down her offer. Who cares if she'll have to pretend to be the sad heartbroken widow a bit more? She's had plenty of experience doing that for the last few months, she can handle it a bit more to keep climbing the social ladder in Eleven. "I'd love to-"

A loud voice makes Jenny flinch for a moment and she does her best to hide the involuntary action as her eyes scan the room for the man raising his voice. But when she finds it's just a group of men laughing together, she forces her shoulders to relax. Yet she's cursing internally that even with Kane gone, he's still finding a way to affect her. It's so easy for her to think the raised voices are Kane's voice yelling at her after he's drank too much, cursing her out for not doing something perfectly that she didn't even realize she was doing wrong. The yelling almost always came before he would hit her… Jenny finds herself rubbing her arms, still being able to feel his fingers digging into her arm, causing bruises that she would have to hide the next day, as he would push her around. If she was lucky, he would just push her aside and stumble to bed. If not…

"Excuse me, I need to use the bathroom," Jenny mumbles as she's already starting to walk away from Rain, ignoring her friend asking her something. She pushes through people to get up the stairs and into her bedroom, the one she always stayed in on the nights when Kane drank too much, which were the majority of them. She quickly locks the door behind her and leans against it, shutting her eyes as she slides down to the ground.

_He is not here, Jenny. Snap out of it._

He can't hurt her anymore. He'll never hit her again or force himself on her. He's just a ghost now, unable to hurt her unless she lets him. Yet his impact is all over her still. She'll never escape the flinches in response to raised voices.

Yet she can only give herself a couple minutes to compose herself. She can use the excuse that she was just a little overwhelmed from missing him, but as the host of the party, Jenny can't be gone for long. After all, appearances are everything to these people.

And she's never letting them see this side of her. People will use this weakness to destroy her. And Jenny will be damned if she lets anyone use this weakness as a tool aside from herself.

* * *

Jenny stares out at the moonlight fields as she sits on the porch steps, absentmindedly rubbing the belly of her coonhound Hunter as he looks up at her with loving eyes and tongue hanging out the side. So many nights they have done this after the parties Kane hosted where they would pretend to be the picture perfect married couple. Of course, everyone else at the party was doing the same thing because that's all the rich do – lie and hide their dirty secrets.

So many nights after the parties she would slip outside in the dead of night, long after Kane had fallen asleep and couldn't tell her what to do. This was the only time when she could escape from him and be alone with the only one that has loved her. They would sit in the sticky air of District Eleven, even if Jenny hates it, all because it was the one place where she could get a reprieve from the life she so desperately wanted to be part of.

"We're much better off without him," Jenny tells Hunter and he just rolls over more in response to her, so she pays more attention to petting him. Yet there's still an emptiness in her chest that she can't get rid of. She had hoped that getting back to the lavish lifestyle she married into would take her mind off of things since she wasn't just alone as she kept the vineyard in business. The party had been a success. She kept the wine flowing for everyone but herself, watching as more people got intoxicated and started to let slip their carefully manicured appearances and revealed things that they wouldn't have normally. Things that Jenny tucked away in her mind for in the future if she ever needed a favor and needs to give a little incentive.

If the party was so great, why is she feeling so…numb and empty?

Nearly three months later and despite her being so glad he's gone, Jenny can still feel the lasting impact of Kane's abuse.

"You're the only man I need," Jenny whispers to Hunter before turning up to the sky and blinking back tears as her thoughts imagine what her life married to Kane could have been like if she hadn't had her dog there to keep her company and provide a temporary escape. If she didn't have those moments of reprieve on her own…it would have taken her a lot longer to reach this point.

They sit in silence for a while, Jenny trapped in her thoughts of her disastrous marriage, only kept in the present by Hunter by her side. Why is she feeling this way? She hated that man by the end of it. She will never wish to have him alive again.

But as her hand absentmindedly finds her flat stomach, she knows the reason why she feels so empty. She should have started to have a little bump by now. She hadn't cared that the baby would have been fathered by Kane. A child's parents don't automatically make them a bad person, especially when the bad influence would have been gone from their life. But just as she had started to get excited about the idea of being a mother…

If Jenny shuts her eyes, she can still see all the blood on the bed when she woke up to the excruciating cramps. She can still feel the cold metal of the doctor's table and hear the lack of emotion in his voice as she told her she had miscarriage, just one week after smiling and telling her that she was pregnant.

She knows it's her fault. She was drinking the whole time, unaware that she was pregnant. And that's not even including the karma for what she did…

Jenny shakes her head before reaching for the glass of wine next to her and downing it, needing to feel it relaxing her mind a bit. She would have been a terrible mother anyways. It was just karma stopping her from fucking up some child's life because she would have been too selfish to care for them properly.

She's better off alone and only looking after herself. Jenny won't let herself get hurt by someone else again.

* * *

_Priscilla Rhodes, Escort for District Eleven_

Priscilla has been looking forward to this day for months now, ever since she received the news that she was selected to be an escort this year. She had her outfit picked out weeks ago and was up for hours last night making sure every crease was out of her dress and that her wig was free of tangles. She was so excited last night that for a bit, she was able to forget that she was heading to the lowest of the Districts.

She was able to forget that right up until she walked out on the stage. Then she couldn't forget that fact that she is at the bottom of the totem pole of escorts as she stares out at the thin and ragged children of the District, some so thin they look like walking skeletons. She knew from watching the Hunger Games each year what they looked like…but seeing them in person just brought a whole new light to the terrible conditions these people live in.

No matter. Priscilla is positive that she won't be in District Eleven for long! Most escorts don't stay here for very long, and she understands. Why would anyone choose to stay in Eleven when you could head up to the career Districts?

"Good afternoon, District Eleven!" Priscilla says to the crowd as her normal vibrant self, wanting to make sure she looks good for her friends back home in the Capitol. "I'm Priscilla Rhodes, your new escort this year! Happy to be here so let's get started with picking the tributes," she says in a rush, clasping her hands together in front of her for a moment as she smiles out at the crowd, expecting them to give some sort of acknowledgement. But when they don't, Priscilla remains unbothered, knowing that people can change and surely she'll get this crowd to change. Or she'll get promoted. Whatever happens first.

"Okay ladies first!" Priscilla tells them as she picks her first name – her very first tribute ever, how exciting! She stands in front of the glass bowl for a moment, just giving herself time to take this all in. Hopefully this will be the first of many times she is choosing a tribute. She slowly reaches in and takes her time choosing a name, wanting to make sure she picks a good tribute for her first year. "First we have…Jendaya Barrett!"

Priscilla waits a moment, scanning the crowd to see where her first tribute is, and gets a little happy as she sees an older girl step forward, doing her best to be confident, but she does wipe at tears in her eyes as she heads up to the stage.

She's pretty – for a District girl, of course not by Capitol standards – with her long straight hair that's carefully draped over one shoulder of her formfitting black dress. And when she reaches the stage, she stands well over Priscilla, thanks to both her height and the heels she wears that emphasize her slender frame. She gives Priscilla a charming smile that conflicts with the tears she wipes away, but Priscilla doesn't notice any tears up close. "Hello, just Jenny, please," she says calmly as she greets the escort, before turning to face the crowd, folding her hands in front of her and keeping her head held high.

Priscilla takes in her appearance for a moment, assessing the girl, before nodding a little. "Well I'm sure we have some things to work on, but we'll see what I can do!" Jenny forces a smile at this and Priscilla grins back at her. "But of course, any volunteers?"

Priscilla waits for a few longs seconds, part of her expecting there to be volunteers, because why wouldn't someone want to be part of the Hunger Games? Yet the crowd remains quiet and she pouts a little bit. But no matter, perhaps she can change that and have Eleven become more excited about participating. "Well I guess we'll have to pick our second tribute then!"

Priscilla heads to the other glass bowl and once again takes a few seconds to appreciate the moment. She just can't help the excitement of picking her first pair of tributes. "And for our second tribute we have…Grant Gallitan-Montgomery!"

She waits for a moment for Grant to step forward and after a few seconds, the crowd starts rustling towards the back among the fourteen year olds. The cameras soon find the boy standing there in shock and he starts looking around as the people stare at him, before slowly making his way up towards the stage. He's clearly holding back tears as he takes deep breaths to stay calm. Priscilla is a little disappointed at how average he seems to be and lacking in the confidence and grace that Jenny had as she took the stage. At least one of the tributes recognizes the honor they have just received. But at least Grant isn't one of the children in Eleven that looks like a dead person walking from being so malnourished. Grant barely looks at Priscilla and Jenny as he reaches them on the stage, just keeping his eyes turned down and sniffling a little.

"Well, once again I will ask if there are any volunteers?" Priscilla asks the crowd, really hoping someone will step forward. But again, the crowd is silent, much to Priscilla's disappointment. She so badly wants to have tributes that volunteer and are excited by the prospect of participating in the Games. Oh well, she'll just have to keep waiting for the excitement of her first volunteer for the Games. Hopefully it will happen before she gets to one of the career Districts.

"Well I guess that is it for this year's Reaping!" Priscilla tells the crowd, clasping her hands in front of her once more as she looks at her two tributes. They're certainly not the greatest tributes she's ever seen – hard to compare them to career tributes – but Priscilla always believes that anyone can improve and better themselves. And it looks like she has quite the challenge in front of her with these two if she wants to make one of them a victor.

"We have our two tributes then, Jenny and Grant!"

* * *

**Welcome back to another intro! This time, big thanks to HogwartsDreamer113, ray. 51, and foxfox12 for Jenny, Grant, and Priscilla respectively! And of course, a big happy birthday to Dreamer! Hope you enjoyed the birthday update :)**

**As always, I'd love to hear what you thought of Jenny! It was fun for me to write a tribute from Dreamer this time that isn't a valid boy lol. The blog will be updated by time you reach this point with the info for this pair!**

**RQ#2: **Did Dreamer follow the one rule for this story that she wasn't allowed to send in a valid tribute or did she find a loophole? XD

**Alrighty, not sure when the next update will be, most likely not until December at the earliest just because end of the semester chaos. But next up we'll be looking at one of mine, Marian from District 2!**


	7. District 2: I'd Be An Alpha Type

**A/N: Trigger warning for this chapter.**

* * *

**Chapter 3:**

_Marian Lilley, 18, District Two_

_Three Months Before The Reaping_

How many days has she waited until she could finally give her family this news? How many restless nights of not feeling good enough or told that she would never be picked? How many countless days when she really considered giving it all up but forced herself to keep going? Too many days. She's been waiting for this for years, ever since she started training.

And now…now this fancy piece of paper in her hands is going to give her the escape she's desperately been craving her whole life.

Yet despite a large part of Marian wanting to strut right into the shitty home and give her parents a middle finger while telling them to fuck off, she still hesitates at the door, a small part of her afraid of the massive shit storm that is going to happen when she tells them she was chosen. It's going to be an absolute disaster because none of them actually believed she would be picked as the volunteer. Even when she shows them this piece of paper, hand signed by Kat Liero, she still doesn't think they'll accept it. They'll just try to put her in her 'place' and remind her that she will _never_ be as good as the boys. Which is complete bullshit considering she beat Kaz in their sparring match today, meaning she is now winning against him this month 10 to 9.

"Are you going to stand out there all night?"

Marian looks up at the teasing of her younger sister, finding Jazmyn hanging out of her bedroom window on the second floor, laughing as she looks down at her. Marian rolls her eyes while fighting the urge to smile up at her, not wanting to encourage her. "Yeah, hang on, I'll be up in a minute."

"Hurry your ass along, I'll be counting," Jazmyn laughs as she shuts her window, leaving Marian to hurry up inside because she knows her sister will be impatient. And she's impatient too to tell her about this before she tells their parents. She did this just as much for Jazmyn as she did it for herself. Marian has to keep protecting her little sister from the full force of their parents' misogynistic views. Well, the seventeen year old isn't really little and she's been taller than Marian for years now.

Marian takes off her shoes quietly, listening to her parents talking in the kitchen, making sure they aren't going to hear her coming in. But then again, even if they do hear her, they aren't going to actually say anything to her. She runs up the stairs and finds Jazmyn standing in her open bedroom door, staring down at her watch. "Fifteen seconds left."

"Oh shut up," Marian teases as she pushes her sister aside so she can enter her room. She sits down on the bed and folds her legs under her as she watches her sister shut the door. She can see Jazmyn trying to hold in her impatience and she wants to keep making her wait, but it's hard to force down her grin of excitement.

"So?" Jazmyn finally asks her.

"So what?" Marian asks, making Jazmyn roll her eyes so much she worries they'll disappear into her head as she walks over to sit next to her.

"The results!" Jazmyn says as she gives Marian a shove to move her over, but doesn't do much to actually move her. "You didn't come home crying, which is a good sign."

"Oh that," Marian says quietly, watching Jazmyn's smile falter right away, which almost makes her burst out laughing right away. But she holds it in, turning her face down and even letting out a dramatic sigh as she holds the piece of paper out to her sister.

"Oh Mar, I'm sorry…" Jazmyn says quietly, even giving her a quick side hug before opening up the paper to start reading it. She watches her face, waiting to see the exact moment when she finds out Marian was picked. And sure enough, her jaw drops open as she looks up at Marian, before smacking her on the arm. "You bitch! I was ready to be all sad for you, maybe even cry one dramatic tear."

Marian can't help but laugh at her sister's response, and Jazmyn doesn't stay annoyed for long and soon she's grinning as she keeps reading over the letter. "Mar, this is amazing…you're going to get out of here."

"I know," Marian answers quietly, still in a bit of disbelief that she really has her way out from this hell hole. She can see Jazmyn growing upset at this though, no doubt at the nagging thought she always has when they bring up the Games. "I'm going to get you out of here too. I won't let them force you into being a submissive person that shouldn't stand up for yourself."

"I know, but…"

"No buts," Marian tells her, knowing where she is going with that thought and refusing to think about that alternative. She has to keep believing that she will win and get freedom for not just herself, but her sister. "Unless it's a butt on a cute person," Marian teases, making Jazmyn crack a smile right away. She pokes her in the side, making Jazmyn laugh as she tries to get away from Marian poking a ticklish spot. "Come on, have some faith in your big sister."

"I'm taller than you," Jazmyn teases her, a fact she loves to point out.

"Okay sorry not all of us can be nearly 6'," Marian answers with a laugh. But before they can say anything else, their smiles quickly disappear by the voice calling up to them.

"Girls, dinner time!"

Jazmyn looks at her with scared eyes and Marian quickly pulls her into a hug. "This is going to turn out okay, I promise. Just…stay out of it, okay? Don't let them get upset with you too."

"But I hate sitting back and listening to them treat you the way they do," Jazmyn says softly.

"I know," Marian answers, leaning back to give her sister a kiss on the forehead. "But just three more months and then we'll be out of here."

"I'm counting down the days," Jazmyn scoffs as she lets go of Marian and gets up. "Come on, let's go."

"Me too, baby sister, me too," Marian answers as she follows Jazmyn out, getting an annoyed glance back over the shoulder of her not quite baby sister. And while normally the teasing would have made her laugh, an anxious pit has started to form in her stomach as she realizes that she can't put off telling them any longer. And she has no idea how this will turn out.

They enter the dining room and take their seats silently, their parents already in their spots. Marian silently eats her food, half-listening to her mother asking their father about his day at work, trying to figure out how to bring it up. All of the fire in her earlier to tell them and spite them has slipped away, making her unable to form the words that need to be said.

But, turns out she doesn't need to bring it up first. "So today was when they chose the volunteers, correct?" Her mother says and Marian looks up right away, wondering if she already heard. "I'm sure you must be disappointed, but don't worry dear, you'll realize this will be for the best in the end. It was only a matter of time before you realized this was a waste of time."

"Actually," Marian says as she sets down her fork and uses her napkin to give herself a few more seconds to figure out what she is going to say. "It wasn't a waste of time." Marian glances between her parents, waiting for them to put it together, but her mother just stares at her in confusion. "I was chosen. To be the volunteer."

Tense silence falls on the table as her parents freeze up, her father blinking at her with his fork half raised to his mouth and her mother sets down her silverware, looking as if Marian just personally insulted her. Which, she did in a way. "But what about Klaus?"

Marian scoffs and rolls her eyes at the pitiful excuse of a boy that her parents have tried in vain to set her up with for years, all because of his parents being more influential than her family. "He'll be fine. This was the deal, you would let me train and I promised if I wasn't picked I would marry him." Not that she would actually marry him. She thinks he's disgusting and, well, also the fact that she has a girlfriend. But her parents didn't need to know that or they never would have agreed.

"Yes, but we didn't think you would ever have even a remote chance of being selected!" Her mother slams her fist down on the dinner table, causing some of the silverware to hit the plates and the noise makes Jazmyn jump in her seat. "We made that deal to keep you preoccupied and to get you to stop fighting us at every turn, just waiting for you to realize that what you're trying to achieve is ridiculous and just going to end in your death!"

"Why, because I'm a girl?" Marian asks them and their silence speaks volumes. "Because I'm supposedly weak and incapable of doing anything?"

"Yes!"

"You seem to be forgetting about quite a few of Two's victors," Marian crosses her arms as she glares over at her parents. She moves one hand though so she can start counting on her fingers. "Let's see, we have Glacia, a _Quell_ victor-"

"Just going to end up like her grandmother," her father interrupts and Marian just gives him an exasperated look, before continuing on.

"Maylene, Viola, Roxanne," Marian counts on her hand, pausing before reaching her favorite victor. "And _Kat Liero._"

"And you're neglecting the male victors, which include the two to set the record for back to back victors, as well as our youngest."

"Youngest for now," Marian counters, "Until I win."

Her mother shakes her head and lets out a loud sigh at her. "Marian, when are you going to stop being delusional about your chances of actually winning?"

"Never," Marian retorts with a scoff. "I know I can win and so does Kat."

Marian knows they have reached a stalemate, one they have reached many times before. But she isn't backing down this time. Not when she finally got what she has worked towards for years. "I'm volunteering and you're not going to stop me."

The three of them stare each other down in long silence that drags on. Her father takes a sip of his wine before slowly setting the glass down, before pointing out of the room. "Then there's the door."

"What?" Marian stares at him in shock, never anticipating this reaction when she told them.

"You heard what I said," her father continues coolly, refusing to meet her eyes. "If you refuse to listen to us, you won't be allowed to live under this roof any longer."

"Are you serious?" Marian asks in disbelief. Sure, she hates living with her parents, but she doesn't want to get kicked out. She doesn't know where she will go and she doesn't want to leave Jazmyn all alone without Marian there to take the brunt of their misogynistic comments. "I'm your daughter! You can't just kick me out!"

"We can and we just did," her father continues calmly, seemingly completely unbothered at the fact that he just made his eldest daughter homeless. Marian looks at her mother to see if she will say anything to stop this, but of course her mother has her eyes down, being weak and submissive to whatever her husband says, and it disgusts Marian. "You're eighteen and legally an adult. We have been kind enough to allow you to stay under our roof for this long, but we will not tolerate you disobeying us."

"Fine," Marian says, trying to fight off tears of frustration, hating the fact that she is getting emotional about this. It will be just one more reason they list why she will die in the Games. "I'll just get my things and-"

"You will do no such thing," her father tells her. "They belong to us. You disgust me so just get out of our sight before I call the Peacekeepers to remove you from my house."

Marian stares at him for a few seconds, before pushing back her chair to stand up, letting it fall to the ground. Her mother jumps at the noise, but Marian doesn't take her gaze away from her father. "I am going to win those Games purely to spite you and prove you wrong," Marian says quietly, doing her best to keep her voice from shaking out of anger. She turns to leave their house, part of her in disbelief that they are actually kicking her out over this. All because she told them she was chosen. Halfway to the door, she turns back around out of spite, wanting to rub salt in their wounds. "Oh and by the way, Dany has been my girlfriend for two years, so thanks for letting her sleepover all those times."

If Marian wasn't so damn upset and frustrated right now, she would have laughed at the shocked expressions on her parents' faces at the knowledge that her best friend has been her girlfriend all this time. Her father soon stands up, his face red with anger as he points at the door and screams at her, "Get out! You disgusting excuse of a human being!"

"You're one to talk," Marian yells back as she takes steps towards the door, beyond ready to leave this all behind. Yet she hesitates from the guilt overwhelming her that caught up in the middle of this and being left alone with them is her sister. Marian turns to her sister, finding Jaz pleading with her silently. "I'm keeping my promise, Jaz. I'll be the victor."

* * *

_Flannery Escouvier, Escort for District Two_

There's always a buzz of excitement inside her whenever she steps out onto the stage in District Two, and this year is no different for Flannery. She loves the excitement of the crowd when they greet her, a familiar face and the only escort that some of them have ever seen in their lives. Not that Flannery likes admitting that she is starting to get older. But she'll be damned if she leaves District Two any time soon. She is going to get them at least a few more victors before she decides to retire.

But this year, there's a bit more excitement than normal about escorting. She gets to work with her first victor from Two _and_ her most recent victor. Plus, she heard from Mae that her _very_ first victor will be escorting as well. Somewhere in the years of escorting, the victors have become her closest friends, and she is looking forward to spending time with them once more.

And she trusts they picked tributes that will make sure they show District Four that last year's victory was a fluke.

"Good morning, District Two!" Flannery says cheerfully as she greets the crowd, getting people in the crowd responding to her. "You all know me, Flannery Escouvier, and I'm excited to be back and to get you yet another victor!"

The crowd cheers as expected, filling her with pride for the place she might even call her second home. "Shall we see who will be fighting for us this year?"

Even though she knows it won't matter in the end what name she picks, she still takes her time and pretends to contemplate who to pick, making the crowd laugh a bit. "I wonder who it will be! Let's see…Janine Urbana!"

A girl quickly makes her way out from the very front section, glancing over at the crowd and shaking her head at someone. "Chill dad, there's going to be a volunteer."

Flannery raises an eyebrow as the girl takes the stage, looking bored at being up there. "Overprotective parent?"

"Yeah," Janine scoffs. "Scared I'll end up like his former flame."

"Well I am sure that someone would like to step forward?" Flannery asks the crowd.

And sure enough, a girl steps forward right away. "I volunteer!"

Flannery grins as she watches the girl head up to the stage, her head held high and carrying confidence in herself. Flannery knows the confidence that she surely has from wearing a form fitting pantsuit. The girl has her natural hair curly and just a dash of makeup, letting her confidence speak for her appearance. "Marian Lilley," she tells the escort before facing the crowd, shoulders back as she takes a deep breath, before letting herself smile when someone in the crowd yells "Yeah girl, kill 'em!"

"Welcome, Marian," Flannery smiles at the girl before heading to pick the other name before there is a volunteer. "And how about we bring up Jouko Bossert."

The young boy makes his way up to the stage quickly, making no comments to family member's in the crowd like Janine. But he lacks the fear of kids reaped in other Districts, armed with the knowledge that someone else will soon be taking his place.

"Any volunteers for Jouko?" Flannery asks the crowd once more, not afraid at all about someone not stepping forward.

"I volunteer," a voice calls out and soon a boy steps forward, wearing a nice teal dress shirt and black dress pants. He avoids eye contact with the crowd as he approaches the stage, even biting his nails a little out of what Flannery can only presume is nerves. But when he reaches her, he just sticks out his hand to her right away. "Kaz Aberdeen, volunteer for the Games."

"Yes, welcome, Kaz," Flannery says with a smile as she shakes his hand, hoping to help the boy relax a little bit. But he only meets her eyes for a fraction of a second before looking away, keeping his gaze off of the crowd. She puts a hand on his shoulder for a moment to comfort him, recognizing a tribute that is not the best at being in front of crowds. But that doesn't make her doubt him for one second. She knows District Two will have picked their best possible volunteers, like always.

"Well it looks like we have our two tributes for the 137th Hunger Games!" Flannery tells the crowd, growing excited about getting to know these two so she can do everything to help them win. "Let's give a big round of applause for your tributes, Marian Lilley and Kaz Aberdeen! I know that they are going to do their very best to make you proud!"

* * *

**And we are back earlier than expected! Marian is the first of mine and of course Flannery has been in a bunch of my stories so far, but big thanks to VeneratedArt for Kaz! I didn't plan on having this update today but I wanted to write one of my own characters and just go nuts and, well, here we are XD Can't say next update will happen quickly, but I aim to have one Legacy for every two Senseless chapters!**

**So thoughts on Marian? I love my D2 tributes so she was fun for me to write lol.**

**I'd like to invite you to come participate in the SYOT Alliance forum's third annual SYOT Awards! This event is a yearly thing we do to recognize another great year of SYOTs and those involved! We are currently in the nomination stage of the awards so please check it out, let others know, and come participate :) the link to the forum is on my profile because FFN does not like links within the actual story.**

**RQ #3: **edddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddtyyyyyyyyyyyybh hl...;/,m... -Stache, my kitten. Answer that as you like XD

**Well, I'll see you idk when XD Next we will be heading to D10 to take a look at Sissel!**


	8. District 10: Take These Broken Wings

**A/N: Trigger warning for this chapter.**

* * *

**Chapter 4:**

_Sissel Wetherburn, 17, District Ten_

_Two Months Before The Reaping_

Sissel is probably the only teenager that actually wants to wake up at the crack of dawn on a Saturday. But he always looks forward to getting up early on Saturdays and spending the whole day at the sanctuary.

Sissel uses his shoulder to push open the door, immediately grinning when he is welcomed by little chirps – and one very loud squawk. "Morning, Perry."

Perry – or Pissy as his grandmother named him and his mother desperately tried to convince Sissel and Jules otherwise – the macaw bops his head as he walks over to the front of his large cage, staring over Sissel as he walks over to his cage. "Mother fucker," Perry squawks, making Sissel shake his head.

"So glad that is part of the legacy Grandma left behind," Sissel says as he opens up the cage door and offers his hand to Perry. He lightly bites it before stepping onto his hand and Sissel brings him up to his shoulder where Perry immediately starts nibbling on his beanie. "Hey, not the hat, Grandma made that. I'm working on the food."

Perry nibbles on his ear in response and Sissel gently pushes his large beak away as he goes over to the containers of food. Perry grows impatient as Sissel scoops out some food and starts biting his ear until Sissel holds up his hand full of some seeds for him. "Here, stop being pissy. It's really no wonder Grandma named you that."

Sissel starts about the task of filling the food dishes, starting with Perry, and he puts the macaw back in his cage for now so he stops trying to nibble on Sissel. Next is the rest of their most expensive birds that will someday be bought by the rich in either the Capitol or sometimes the other Districts. He loves the bright colors of the tropical species and even lovingly chirps back at some of them as he fills their dishes. Who could be mad when they get to wake up and feed these little cuties right away?

But the pet birds are not the only ones that need to be fed now, and anyways, he'll be back shortly to clean up their cages to impress the tour later in hopes that some will leave with a new family pet. The sanctuary needs to make a profit somehow so they can keep caring for the birds, and so Sissel can hopefully go study Ornithology and be able to hiring someone to do what he does. Sissel stops in front of Perry's cage and offers his hand once more. "Come on, Perry, time to feed the others."

Perry steps on his hand and is put back on Sissel's shoulder – with no biting this time – and Sissel takes a handful of the bird's food and puts it in his jacket in case he gets fussy, which usually is the case.

Next stop in the morning feed is the poultry and he can hear the birds before even entering the coup. Perry sits calmly, squawking occasionally at the chicken and turkey as Sissel scoops out their food. The chicken only care about their food but some of the turkey give Perry curious looks as Sissel feeds them.

"Bitch," Perry squawks at the turkeys and Sissel shakes his head.

"Perry, they are not bitches," Sissel tells the macaw as he scratches Perry's head. "One of these days they're going to take out their grudge on you for always calling them bitches and you'll only have yourself to blame."

Perry's response is to nip his ear and Sissel gently pushes his head away. "Come on, let's get the eggs before you get the entire rafter of turkeys angry at you." Perry continues to insult the birds as Sissel gathers the eggs, setting a few aside to trade with some of the merchants later. But he leaves a couple behind for the children touring later to "find" since they always get excited about discovering the eggs, and excited children mean parents more likely to donate or buy birds from them.

And then it's back to the tropical bird room to make everything look nice. Perry so kindly poops as they walk back and Sissel can feel it falling down the back of his shirt. He sighs as they enter the building and shakes his head as he picks up Perry from his shoulder. Perry looks all smug as he looks back at Sissel as he enters the room again, "You are such a little shit sometimes."

"Morning Sissel!"

"Morning," Sissel answers Naomi before passing the cranky bird to their cheery part time assistant. She starts cooing at him right away and Perry cheerfully greets her with no swearing, unlike when Sissel entered. He grabs a paper towel and tries to clean up the poop from his back, struggling to reach the spot. "Birds are fed so all we need to do is get the cages cleaned up before the tour gets here at noon."

"No problem!" Naomi answers as she puts Perry back in his cage, leaving the door open for him to come out if he wants to. She looks over at Sissel struggling with both hands to reach the poop on his back and starts laughing as she steps over to help him. "He got you again?"

"Yep," Sissel says with a glare over at the smug bird, but the glare really only lasts a second because he can't stay mad at the bird for just being his normal self. "Thanks," he says as Naomi finishes cleaning up the poop from him before picking up his own supplies to start cleaning. "You'll need to take him somewhere else when the tour comes through."

"Wouldn't want him cursing in front of the children, would we?" Naomi asks as she offers Perry a piece of food that he happily takes from her. "We'll go have a nice walk, how does that sound?"

Sissel gets to work cleaning out the cages and starts to tune out Naomi as she keeps talking away, occasionally giving small non-committal answers to keep her talking. He doesn't need to hear about her latest exploits with this month's boy of interest. But he doesn't tell her to stop, knowing she's the type that would be upset by that and he needs her help with the sanctuary.

"Oh Jared did tell me something about a local woman and it's so sad."

"Yeah?" Sissel asks, starting to pay a little bit more attention now that she's shifting away from every last detail about her latest date.

"Yeah, this woman was walking home from work yesterday and she got assaulted by some man," Naomi says quietly and Sissel stops what he's doing to look over at her, tensing up at this information. She shakes her head, looking a little scared as she continues, "It's scary, you know, being afraid to just walk home and have someone attack you for no reason… So Jared is going to come walk me home later today."

Sissel's hands shake as he turns away from her, trying to keep his anger from building at this information. He stares at the parakeet in the cage he was cleaning, taking deep breaths to keep himself calm. "Do they know who did it?"

"Yeah, some merchant's son or something," Naomi tells him as he gets back to cleaning, trying to hide his growing anger. "Some rich family who paid off the authorities to keep him out of jail."

"Fucker," Sissel mutters under his breath, having to stop what he was doing as his hands shake so badly. Of course the guy got away with it…just like what happened to his mother. But unlike where people didn't believe his mother, this bastard gets off free all because he's rich… "People like that deserve to be punished."

"Oh I completely agree," Naomi tells him, unaware of Sissel's growing anger. He tries to take deep breaths to calm down, knowing the anger now won't do anything and that man will get what he deserves soon enough. "It makes me so sad… I always wish I could do something in these situations."

"So do I," Sissel answers her quietly, resuming his cleaning of the bird's cage, trying to concentrate on what he's doing, but his mind is turning from that news. "So do I…"

* * *

"Welcome to the Wetherburn Avian Sanctuary and Rehabilitation Center!" Sissel greets the field trip group gathered at the entrance of the sanctuary. Two Capitolite teachers herd the group of six year olds, doing their very best to keep the excited children in line. "Who wants to see some birds?"

The children give a variety of exclamations at this, making Sissel smile at their excitement over birds, reminding him of how he was as a child when he got to see the birds. "Well follow me!"

Sissel starts to lead them first over to the chicken coup, talking away about what they will see today. "So we will start with our poultry, including chicken, turkey, and ducks. Then we will look at some of the birds that are brought in from the District that are hurt and we help them get healthy once more. And then finish up with our tropical species of birds that are all available for adoption!"

A few of the children walk excitedly next to him and Sissel starts telling them and the others facts about chickens on their walk over. "Did you know that chickens have their own distinct language with over 30 different sounds? They are also omnivores and if they don't have a satisfactory diet, they will actually eat their own – ah, well, they do like to eat bugs. And here we are."

Sissel opens the door and lets the group enter before him and the children gather in front of the chickens right away. "Now the chickens we raise here are for both laying eggs and-"

"I see an egg!" One of the children says loudly, interrupting him and making one of the teachers give an exasperated sigh as they remind the children not to interrupt Sissel.

Sissel grins as the kids gather around to look at the egg. He steps over and into the coup to grab the egg he left behind early. "Well look at that!" He says as he holds the egg out for the kids to get a better look. "These eggs are traded both locally and across the country. In addition to the eggs, the chickens we raise are also for poultry."

One of the little girls that is crouched down next to the fence and looking at a hen on the other side raises her hand before asking him, "What does poultry mean?"

"Birds for food," Sissel answers as he puts the egg away. "That chicken right there might someday end up on your dinner table." The girl's eyes widen at this and she steps away from the hen as Sissel clasps his hands in front of him. "So, who would like to see some ducks? It's their lunch time too so maybe you'll even get to feed them!"

That's enough to get the children excited once more and forget about the chickens possibly being their next dinner and Sissel happily leads the way over to the ducks, even though he has to keep some of his facts appropriate for their level. The teachers generally aren't excited when Sissel tells the children that ducks have corkscrew penises. "Ducks' feathers are waterproof and their feet have no nerves or blood vessels, so they don't feel any cold. I think that would certainly be nice."

Sissel brings the children into the pen for their ducks and instructs them to line up near the fence and hold out their hands for him to put some food in. "Now the ducks here are all very friendly, but they have been known to mistake children fingers for worms in the past so just put the food on the ground in front of them."

"Why is there stones in their food?" One of the little kids asks him as Sissel puts food in his outstretched hands.

"Excellent question," Sissel says as he finishes putting food in their hands and takes a handful for himself and holds it out for them to see. "Ducks – and some other birds – need grit to help digest their food. So by extension, that means that when you eat these birds, you are also eating sand and gravel."

The children all look at him in various levels of confusion and Sissel quickly realizes they are not going to listen to him when they are excited about feeding some ducks. "Alright go feed them."

The children quickly scatter around the pen to feed the ducks and the sound of quacks and laughter quickly fills the air. Sissel takes this time to replenish their food supply until it is time for them to move on to his favorite part of not just the tour, but the entire sanctuary: the rehabilitation center.

"Now the birds in here," Sissel tells them as the children look around at the various birds of prey in the room with scared eyes, "Are all birds that have come in from the wild and were hurt in some way. We help heal them and also rehabilitate them so that they can eventually be released back into the wild. But some of them can't be released back, either because they are too hurt to survive, or some like this little guy here have imprinted on us." Sissel goes to one of the enclosures and brings out a tiny little elf owl that hoots happily at the sight of him. He holds him on his finger and shows the group of children. "This is an elf owl that came in as a baby after his nest was found abandoned. We took care of him and his siblings until they were old enough to survive in the wild on their own. But this little guy, Tiki, well, he thinks I'm his mother and we couldn't release him. So now he is here for education!"

Most of the children are focused on the small owl – and Sissel can't blame them, Tiki is five inches of cuteness. But one kid is looking over at the very first bird Sissel trained with fear in his eyes. "What's the scariest bird?"

Sissel stares straight at the little boy that asked the question, head tilted slightly before speaking in a deadpan, "Geese." The children share confused looks at this, surely expecting him to answer that one of the birds of prey in the room is the scariest, and Sissel shakes his head at them. "Birds aren't actually scary when you realize they are simply acting out of instinct. They are doing what evolution has ingrained into them and are simply trying to survive. But geese are nasty birds and will hiss and attack you, even if you aren't doing anything threatening to them."

The children don't seem quite too sure about this answer as they look around at some of the hawks, falcons, and larger owls. But it's the honest answer. These birds aren't scary at all once their behavior is understood and they just act out of survival, unlike humans. But Sissel will do his best to help them see this.

"Now," Sissel tells them as he puts away Tiki. "Who wants to feed a falcon?"

* * *

_Icarus Clo, Escort for District Ten_

Icarus steps out on the stage of District Ten for his eighth year, part of him surprised that he is still here. He certainly expected when he first started to be somewhere else by this point. But, given Ten's poor attempts towards victory lately…he's not that surprised that he hasn't been asked to move to a new District yet. But maybe this year is going to be different. As long as Danila doesn't fight back too hard with him over decisions they make for the tributes, both of them too stubborn to let the other take control even though they are both trying to achieve the same thing.

"Hello, District Ten," Icarus says slowly to the crowd, trying his best to stay optimistic that this year is going to be different. "It's me, Icarus Clo, once again. Shall we see who our tributes are this year?"

Icarus brushes back his mop of curly green hair as he heads to the familiar glass sphere, leaning down a little to reach into it to pick a name. Really, they couldn't have gotten a taller stand for him? They've known him for years now. He contemplates for a moment before picking his first name and returning to the microphone, trying again to bring it up a bit because it never seems to stay raised for him. "Our first tribute is Ally Ishmael, come on up."

From Icarus' tall stature, he has a good view of the crowd and notices very quickly the motion from the fourteen year old section as Ally makes her way out of the crowd. She's tall for her group and one of the first things Icarus notices as she makes her way up to the stage is the black hijab framing her scared face. As she gets closer, visibly taking deep breaths, she smooths out her dress as she tries to hold back her tears. Icarus gives her a friendly smile as she takes the stage and when she stops next to him, she has to crane her neck to look up at him. "Hello, Ally, welcome. Now are there any volunteers for Ally?"

Just like every year Icarus has been in Ten, the crowd stays silent at this question. He lets out a small sigh from slight disappointment, "Very well, let's find out who our second tribute is this year." Icarus stubbornly tries to pick a name near the bottom and has to lean down so far to reach it, getting some snickers from children in the crowd. He presses his lips together as he returns back to the microphone, doing his best to hold in a passive aggressive comment. "Our second tribute is Sissel Wetherburn."

A scrawny looking kid steps out from the seventeen year old group, scratching his head under his beanie and looking deep in thought as he approaches the stage. As he gets to the stage, Icarus notices a few things about him that are quite different than typical tributes he picks in this District. First, just how short the boy is, at least a full foot shorter than the escort and maybe not even taller than Ally. And second, the stains all over his baby blue shirt that Icarus isn't sure he wants to know what they are from. As he stares longer at Sissel, he notices something…white and brown in the boys tangled curly mess of hair and cringes a little as he realizes it's bird poop. How has he not realized he has bird poop in his hair?

"Welcome, Sissel," Icarus says to the boy, earning a stare from him as Sissel tilts his head in a very…odd way. Icarus quickly turns back to the crowd, just a little weirded out by Sissel's attitude, but this certainly isn't the first time tributes have acted oddly at the Reaping. "And any volunteers for Sissel?"

Icarus hopes there will be a volunteer for Sissel, but again the crowd stays silent. Well…guess this is the pair of tributes he has this year. No changing that now so Icarus accepts that this is his pair and decides now to make sure he does everything to help them like usual. "Okay District Ten, this is your pair of tributes for the 137th Hunger Games! Ally Ishmael and Sissel Wetherburn."

* * *

**We have finally reached our resident birb boy XD Big thanks to Sinfonian Legend, foxfox12, and misfit-right-in for Sissel, Ally, and Icarus respectively! I hope you all enjoyed birb boy and the facts that took a lot of research XD Also big thanks to Legend for helping me with a lot of the bird information in this chapter!**

**So what are your thoughts on Sissel?**

**CQ #4: **We'll have a Sissel-themed question. What's your favorite kind of bird?

**Alrighty, the next update will most likely be in 2020 where we will be looking at the second of my four tributes, Sasha in D3! See you then!**


	9. District 3: Those Days Are Gone

**A/N: Trigger warning for the Reaping POV.**

* * *

**Chapter 5:**

_Sasha Kolster, 16, District Three_

_Two Weeks Before The Reaping_

Sasha always hates walking into this place. Well, if whatever she is doing could even be called walking… She hates the pitiful looks the older patients give her. She hates the sad smiles the staff gives her as they keep encouraging her. And she really hates doing something that seems to be making no progress at all.

"Mom can we just admit already that this isn't working?" Sasha begs her mother as she leads the way into the center, letting Sasha hobble behind her with her cane.

"No, dear," her mother calls over her shoulder as she keeps heading right to the front desk. Sasha scowls at her back, wondering how much trouble she would get in if she hit her mother with her cane – not like, hard, really, just enough to express her annoyance at this in a way her mother might actually comprehend. It's partially her fault she's like this in the first place since she didn't believe that Sasha's symptoms were serious, even accused her of being _hungover_ because of the pounding headache and slurred speech. As if Sasha would be hungover! She's never even had a sip of alcohol. Thanks a lot, Mom. Thanks for contributing to her disability.

Instead, Sasha heads over to one of the waiting room chairs while her mother checks in, picking up one of the lame ass magazines they have to read while waiting. She flips through it briefly before tossing it back, really not needing to know about how to have a healthy heart in her 60s. Sasha sighs as she goes to sit down and soon starts scowling when some middle aged man jumps up to try and help her sit down. "I'm fine," she snaps at him as she lowers herself down using the armrest of the chair before picking up her right leg and adjusting how it rests.

The man shakes his head as he goes back to sitting with the older man he's with, mumbling something about how teenagers are so ungrateful. Sasha is unable to bite her tongue – irony considering she did nearly bite off part of her tongue when the right side of her face went numb – and snaps at him once more. "You would be ungrateful too if you were crippled at sixteen."

"Sasha Lynn!" Her mother yells over at her as she walks over, hands on her hips and looking ashamed by her actions. "Apologize!"

"No," Sasha grumbles as she crosses her arms and shuts her eyes, leaning back in her chair to try and nap while they inevitably have to wait a while.

She can hear her mother talking to the man, "I'm so sorry about her. She has been so irritated since the accident."

Sure, _now_ she calls it an accident. Sasha's scowl deepens as her mother talking over her bothers her more than it usually does and she doesn't understand why. She hears her mother sit next to her and sigh heavily, and Sasha knows she's about to get lectured. "Sasha, you can't yell at people like that when they are just trying to help you."

"I didn't need help," Sasha responds quietly, keeping her eyes shut so she doesn't have to look at her mother's scolding face. "And if I did, I probably wouldn't have asked anyways."

"There's nothing wrong with asking for help, you know?" Her mother tells her, and Sasha just shakes her head at her and stays quiet. "Gosh, you're so stubborn. I don't know where you get that from."

"I got it from you," Sasha answers as she opens her eyes and slides further down into her seat. She leans her head against the back of the chair and stares up at the ceiling, intensely studying the ceiling tiles in her boredom.

"No, you got it from your father," her mother tells her, just proving Sasha's point because she can't admit her own stubbornness. But thankfully that's all she says and they sit in peaceful silence, occasionally interrupted by her mother flipping through one of the lame magazines and making comments under her breath or the nurses taking a different patient back.

"Sasha Kolster?"

"Here we go," Sasha says with a heavy sigh as she pushes down on the arm rests to bring herself up to a better seated position. She ignores her mother's outstretched hand and stubbornly stands up on her own, even though she can feel her leg wanting to give out on her. Her mother sighs at her, but doesn't say anything about it, letting Sasha feel a bit of satisfaction at doing this on her own.

Once standing and depending on her cane once more, the nurse smiles at her before gesturing back. "Right this way," he says before leading the way through the familiar building that Sasha has spent more time in than school in the past four months.

Sasha can feel her mood continuing to degrade as she enters the rehabilitation room and sees the familiar tools that they have tried to use to help her regain function in her leg. She sighs when the nurse leads her to the walking bars, knowing this is where she struggles the most. "Dr. Maynard will be here in a moment but let's stretch that leg."

"Yeah, whatever," Sasha says as he brings over a foldable chair and lets her sit without trying to offer assistance. He gently starts flexing her leg, stretching the poor muscles that aren't getting used as much anymore, and Sasha watches him, wondering why she doesn't feel more embarrassed that the cute young nurse is helping her. Her friends always comment about how they would be crushing so hard on him if they were Sasha. Maybe you lose the ability to feel embarrassed about things after spending time in the hospital and needing someone to wipe our ass as a teenager.

The stretches do feel nice on her leg, which only makes her tense up in anticipation of the work she'll have to do whenever Dr. Maynard gets here. Her muscles are always sore after these sessions and she hates it. Yeah, it's a necessary part of it, but doesn't mean she has to like it.

"Hello, Sasha, good to see you," Dr. Maynard says as he enters the room and approaches her.

Sasha does her best not to let her annoyance show too much as she grumbles a greeting to him. "Hello."

"We're going to start with some walking exercises, okay?" Dr. Maynard tells her and Sasha just shrugs.

"You're the doctor, so okay," Sasha answers, not being able to fully restrain her sass.

To Dr. Maynard's credit, he doesn't let his smile falter as the two help her over to the two bars for her walking exercises. She knows what she has to do, having done this many times before, but she knows she won't have them supporting her weight anymore.

And it's just going to end up with her on the floor once more.

Still, Sasha starts to walk, appeasing her mother by trying each task in rehabilitation. Her steps are slow as she tries to put more weight on her right foot and not limp like she normally does, her leg guided by Dr. Maynard and the nurse in front of her to stop her from hurting herself.

And it's a good thing he's there as it doesn't take long for her leg to give out and for her to stumble towards the floor, the nurse catching her and stopping her from hurting herself further.

"See I told you this isn't working," Sasha tells her mother as staff helps her back up and she tries her best to hold back her tears of frustration. "I'm not getting any further. We're just wasting time and money here."

"It is common for progress to happen at a slower rate after the first three months," Dr. Maynard tells her, surely trying to reassure her, but it doesn't work. "The rehabilitation in the three to six months immediately after is crucial and you'll still see improvement, but it is up to you to keep up with it. I understand the frustration right now and you are certainly not the first patient I have seen that has wanted to give up at this time."

"Oh she's not giving up," her mother interjects, not giving Sasha time to give a sassy comment about how she's probably the youngest patient he's seen. "How do we make sure she keeps recovering?"

The doctor turns his attention to her mother and it's as if Sasha's not even standing there. "She needs to keep regularly attending rehabilitation sessions here and keeping up on the home exercises on the days in-between. The worst thing she could do is to stop exercising and working the muscles. That is going to lead to atrophy and that is a lot harder to fix."

"Right, of course she'll keep exercising," her mother nods her head while Sasha just feels a growing annoyance and pit of…of something she doesn't understand in her stomach. "And I know you explained before, but what is atrophy?"

"The loss of muscle mass," Dr. Maynard explains as Sasha starts feeling overwhelmed by all of this going on. "It's leads to weakness and if it becomes serious enough, she could-"

"She's right here!" Sasha finally interrupts them, tired of them talking like she's not even there. And with that, the uneasy feeling keeps growing in her, yet she can't figure out why… It's not from the doctors or her mother… "_I'm_ right here," she emphasizes and feels better at that. "And I would appreciate it if you didn't talk like I had brain damage and – okay, I did, but not like that. I can still understand everything just fine. It's just my fucking leg that no longer works!"

The two are temporarily stunned into silence and Sasha shakes her head, feeling like she's on the verge of crying and refusing to do that now. "I…I need to use the bathroom." The nurse helps her walk over and Sasha is too upset to protest it, too focused on doing her best to hold in her tears of frustration until she reaches the bathroom, knowing her mother never handles it well when she cries. She hasn't handled any of this well… But once the door is closed and locked behind her, Sasha can no longer hold in a sob as she grips the rail and lowers herself onto the toilet lid. She can't even sit down on a toilet without assistance, she's so _pathetic. _

She puts her head in her hands, trying to keep her sobs from being too loud to worry her mother. Why did this have to happen to her? She never did anything wrong. She got good grades at school and did volunteer work. The doctors all told her it was rare to see this happen in children her age and for many of them, it was the first time they had seen it. It was why it took so long to diagnose, only making the damage worse…because who would have thought she was having a stroke? It was an old people thing.

So what the fuck did she do to deserve to have a stroke at sixteen?

Why is she sitting here in the bathroom of a rehabilitation center while other kids her age are out having fun and living their healthy lives? And not even the kind of rehab that would be expected of teenagers, the kind for _old_ people.

Sasha grabs a bunch of toilet paper and uses it to wipe at her eyes and blow her nose, feeling so pitiful. She's not getting better, no matter what the doctor says. She's been at this same point for weeks now and can't see how she'll keep improving. And her poor parents have to keep spending their life savings on her for something that's not even working. She's seen the tired looks in her father's eyes as he gets home late from working extra hours – she knows he's lying about going to do something else. She knows her mother is tired of having to constantly be helping her around the house to do the most basic tasks, even if she says she doesn't mind.

And it won't ever end. She's going to be crippled for the rest of her damn life.

Sasha leans her head against the cool tiles of the wall, trying to stop her tears so her mother doesn't keep worrying about her in here. Her parents would be so much better off without her or if she got reaped in a couple weeks. No more paying off expensive hospital bills or helping her do things as basic as bathing herself. But no, that's fucking dumb. Why the fuck would she want to get sent into the Hunger Games? In her current pathetic state, that's even more of a death sentence compared to before she ever had a stroke.

"Sasha?"

There's a knock at the door and Sasha quickly wipes away any remaining tears and throws away the wad of toilet paper before flushing the toilet to make it seem like she was just peeing – or probably shitting based on how long she's been in here.

"Are you okay?" Her mother asks, genuine concern in her voice with no nagging that takes Sasha by surprise for a moment. Sasha hesitates about standing up, guilt starting to plague her that she constantly takes out her frustration on her mother when she does so much for her. But what is she supposed to do? Be all happy and cheery and pretend that life doesn't suck major ass?

"I…I'm fine, just lunch not agreeing with my stomach," Sasha calls out before pulling herself up with the bar. She takes a few seconds to steady herself and make sure she won't fall over and hit her head on the toilet or something, last thing she needs is to add a physical head injury to her brain damage. "I'll be out in a minute."

Sasha hobbles over to the sink, leaning against it for support as she gets her hands wet and splashes water onto her face, trying to reduce the redness of her eyes. But she's not fooling anyone. It's as clear as day that she was in here crying.

She throws open the door, knowing she'll never fool her mother and wanting to just get it over with. Her mother is right on the other side of the door, face full of concern for Sasha as she looks over her, seemingly checking for injuries. Her eyes linger on Sasha's red eyes and soon she pulls her into a hug, only making Sasha start crying once more. "I know it's tough and that I'm tough on you… But you can't give up. You're so stubborn and you need to channel that stubbornness into this, not fighting against it."

"I know," Sasha answers as she clings onto her mother. She knows what she has to do, but it just seems so hopeless right now. She just doesn't see how she's going to ever get back full function of her leg…

And she's terrified of living this way for the rest of her life.

* * *

_Joyce Syllers, Escort for District Three_

The Games are always the worst time for Joyce, despite being the one thing that actually gets her moving and out of the house once more. She enjoys the opportunity to help others and be selfless towards the tributes she picks, but being around all that death… It's impossible to not be reminded of all the loss she's experienced in her own life. Her ex-husband…her son's…every partner of hers…

Death just follows Joyce around everywhere. It's no wonder she hasn't brought any tributes home alive yet. Maybe they'd be better off without her...surely everyone would be better off then.

"Where's my will?" Joyce mutters as she approaches the microphone, looking around anxiously at the crowd gathered in front of her, feeling all of their eyes on her. The Reaping is always the worst part for her to handle… So much fear and anxiety present among the gathered crowd, all watching her and waiting to know if she will doom them. "Should have made me will…"

Joyce shakes her head and takes a long, deep breath, trying to calm down the anxiety building in her that is quickly threatening to take complete control over her. She's done this before…she can get through the Reaping and once this is over, she'll be able to just focus on helping out her two tributes… Which is much easier said than done.

"Hello, District Three," Joyce says nervously and she clasps her hands in front of her to stop herself from wringing them. "You should, uh…know who I am… But if not-" Joyce cuts off with a screech of the microphone and cringes away from it for a moment. At the sound of a few snickers from the crowd, Joyce lets out an anxious laugh as her heart rate picks up. "I'm, uh, Joyce Sellers and, um…yeah, the Reaping."

Joyce stares at the crowd for a few seconds before quickly turning away from their stares. She wipes her palms on her pants as she heads to the first bowl of names, trying to focus on just picking a tribute so she can move on from this. Yet she spends too much time picking the first tribute, anxious about picking the right one. Finally, she just picks one and heads back to the microphone, standing far enough away to hopefully prevent any additional bad feedback. "Okay, our first tribute is…uh…Sasha Kolster."

Joyce waits for what seems like an agonizingly long time until Sasha finally steps out of the crowd of sixteen year olds. Sasha has a deep scowl on her face as she limps up towards the stage, relying on the use of a cane. She brushes back a piece of dark hair that has slipped forward, using the action to subtly brush her cheek and wipe away a tear falling. Joyce's heart breaks for the girl, not knowing what could have happened to her at a young age. "Hello, dear," Joyce says as Sasha reaches the stage.

Sasha cringes away from Joyce, making the escort freeze up. "Don't call me dear when you just sentenced me to death."

Joyce frowns at her, feeling hurt that Sasha has pushed away her effort to help. Of course she has…why would she want Joyce's help? "Very well…anyone volunteering for Sasha? No…? Okay…next tribute then…"

Joyce lets out a sigh as she holds back tears, her anxiety almost getting the best of her after Sasha's reaction. She just wants to help them… And now, who knows how the other tribute will react? They might push Joyce away, leaving her with nothing left… Joyce stares at the second glass bowl for a minute, trying to will herself to just pick a name already. When she finally reaches in, she picks one of the first names she touches. "And our second tribute is…Samis McCree…"

Not as much time passes as it took Sasha to leave the crowd for Samis to step forward from the seventeen year olds, looking ahead blankly with shock written all over his pale face. His mop of curly blond hair is in his face, yet he doesn't make any effort to move it out of the way, clearly too much in shock. Joyce tries giving him a small smile when he reaches the stage, but he stares blankly out at the crowd. "Hello, Samis…"

The sound of his name snaps him out of his shock and he looks over at Joyce and gives her a brief nod of acknowledgement, but stays quiet. Which is at least better than Sasha's reaction… "Well, I suppose I need to ask but…are there any volunteers for Samis? No…?"

Joyce gives a loud sigh as she holds back tears. Great…another year of no volunteers and only one tribute who seems like they might actually want her help… "I guess that's it, then. Our two tributes, Sasha and Samis."

* * *

**Welcome to the first update of 2020! We're starting out with the second of my four, Sasha! And of course, big thanks to Professor RJ Lupin1 and Platrium for Samis and Joyce respectively!**

**So yeah, here's Sasha! She's very good and valid in her frustration and sass given what has happened to her. **

**RQ #5:** I got nothing XD Uhhh...from Dreamer: what would you do if snowed in by a blizzard?

**Alrighty, I'll see you soon with the next chapter when we head to D9!**


	10. District 9: Who Is In Control?

**Trigger warning for this chapter and also NSFW warning.**

* * *

**Chapter 6:**

_Asha Kader, 18, District Nine_

_Three Weeks Before The Reaping_

Asha couldn't take sitting around in the empty house for much longer, counting down the minutes until it was time for her to go to work. Maybe they wouldn't mind if she showed up a couple hours early…the clients certainly wouldn't complain and the extra money they throw at her is a nice bonus… And at least then she'll be useful for her parents. There's not much more she can do at home for her parents. She's cleaned the whole house. She cooked dinner for when they get home from the fields. Yet part of her worries that there should be more that she is doing and just sitting around now with nothing to do is fueling the anxious part of her brain. Surely there's _something_ more to do around the house… Going to work early for some extra money will be doing something, right?

And maybe if she works a bit more, she can start saving up more to move out…but not without leaving money to support her parents. She can't just leave them, not when they've given up everything for her. Just thinking about doing that gives her a pit of guilt in her stomach, one just further fueled by sitting here doing nothing. She's just being so…so _useless_ right now to everyone by not doing anything.

That's it, she has to do something. She can't keep sitting here or guilt will eat away at her. Asha quickly scratches out a note for her parents telling them she's going to work early and dinner is in the fridge, even though that adds onto the guilt from lying to her parents about her work. But she can't tell them, no matter how much she hates keeping this secret from them. They wouldn't understand why she does it – for them…right? It's just for them. Okay…maybe a little bit for herself – but she shouldn't be feeling that way. She is just doing this job to help support her parents who have done everything for her, not because she likes it or the power rush that comes with it. Not at all.

Asha is doing that job purely to be helpful to others.

But as she steps out of the house and locks up behind her, she can't help but feel guilt slowly building in the pit of her stomach. She's being selfish about this, knowing deep down that part of her _wants_ to go to work and she'll enjoy it. She should be doing this purely for helping out her family… Shouldn't she? Of course she's doing this just for her family.

Asha keeps telling the lie to herself as she sets off down the road that she's doing this all purely because she is a compassionate person, keeping her head down and avoiding bringing any unnecessary attention to herself. Two conflicting sides of her argue in her head, one side telling her she's being useful for her parents by bringing home a steady income after years of not doing enough for them while the other side tells her she's not doing enough and she's worthless.

Asha only looks up when she starts to recognize the path she walks on, her feet making her take a detour before she goes to work. How many times has she walked this path? Too many times for her to count. She's not surprised to find herself heading this way, so wrapped up in her thoughts of feeling useless and needing to do something. So why wouldn't she subconsciously head towards one of the people she can still do something to help – even as her stomach twists even more at the thought of seeing him?

As she heads up the steps, she starts tucking the red ends of her hair to make sure it's hidden – the last thing she needs to do is bring attention to it and remind him of the reason she caused all of this to him. Asha takes a deep breath before knocking on the door, waiting a few moments before hearing a gruff voice calling out for her to come in.

Asha slowly cracks open the door, peeking her head in to the dark and being hit with the sharp burning smell of alcohol mixed with the stench of someone who hasn't showered in days and food left out way too long. As she steps inside and quietly shuts the door behind her, she forces herself to give a meek smile as Gideon lets out a grunt at the sight of her. "Oh, it's you."

"Hi Gideon," Asha says softly as she steps into the room, carefully avoiding the mess of scattered clothes and empty alcohol bottles. She starts picking up some of the bottles, knowing she should help him clean up the house while she's here. "How are you doing?"

Gideon is silent for a minute and Asha finally glances over at him when her arms are full of empty bottles, only to find him silently glaring at her, half empty bottle of whiskey in his hand. She turns her gaze to the floor as he slowly stands up and walks over to her, wavering on his feet and knocking over some bottles near the chair he barely leaves these days. He stops in front of her, towering over her as she slouches over, trying to seem smaller, before reaching out to tug on a piece of her hair that's loose, the red showing clear as day, even in the dim lighting of his house. "Came here to flaunt the job that you insisted on staying at even when it hurt me every day knowing other men with touching you the way only I should be?"

"I'm sorry," Asha tells him quickly, blaming herself for not doing a better job at tucking her hair. She should have checked it was all hidden before coming here, she _knows_ how he reacts to it. "That wasn't my intention at all. I promise, I just came here to-"

"It's all your fault," Gideon slurs at her, making her flinch at the comment before her shoulders sag, knowing he's right. She's to blame for what happened then, and for him spiraling and turning to alcohol now. "You ruined what we had by going back there night after night, even when I told you to stop."

"I know, and I'm sorry," Asha whispers, afraid to speak up louder and cause an outburst from him. "But my parents need the money-"

"But what about me?" Gideon yells at her and Asha takes a nervous step back, afraid of his anger. "You always only cared about yourself, never me!"

"I always did things for you and you couldn't accept the one thing that I am good at!" Asha yells at him, stunning both of them into silence by her raising her voice at him. She's never done this before…and immediately feels guilty about it. "I'm so sorry, Gideon, I didn't mean to yell at you."

"Get out," Gideon says quietly and Asha quickly starts taking steps back from him as he continues repeating that, his voice raising in volume each time. She sets the bottles in her arms down in a box near the door, feeling like she has to at least do that for him, even as he yells at her. "You dumb bitch! Get the fuck out of my house!"

"I'm sorry!" Asha yells back at him as she rips open the door, hurt and guilt and…satisfaction swirling in her for her outburst. No, she should only be feeling guilty for this. She came here to check on him and make sure he is doing alright, not push him into a drunk rage… It's all her fault…

A bottle smashes against the door just after she shuts it, making her jump at Gideon yelling in frustration. "Damn it, you made me break the bottle! Fucking waste."

Asha guiltily slides a coin under the front door for the broken bottle of whiskey, knowing he's right and it's her fault. If she hadn't showed up here, he never would have had that outburst and thrown the bottle in anger. "Of course it's your fault, Asha," she whispers to herself, ashamed at herself. Here she was coming here to try and see if there was anything she could do for him, to make sure he was doing alright, only to make things worse…

Asha takes a few long breaths while leaning against the front door, willing her racing heart to slow down. She shouldn't have come here…how many times has she stupidly come here expecting it to be different and for him to still berate her and remind her how much this is her fault? She shuts her eyes, her heart still racing and she shakes her head at herself for the outburst. She shouldn't have done that… And the reason why she did it is terrifying and frustrating to her.

Why can't she keep control of the two sides of her? _And why did she like the feeling of standing up to him?_

* * *

_Later That Night_

As she slips on the leather suit, Slash can feel herself growing more confident in herself and more like she belongs. Here she knows exactly who she is, exactly what the clients expect from her. Here she is in control.

The last touch is putting on a dark lip color and as she lets her hair fall over her shoulders, vibrant red tips showing off proudly…Slash can't help the smirk as she takes in her appearance in the mirror. Black leather clinging to her curves and full chest that stands out with her shoulders back, dark lips just begging to be kissed – not that she'll let them, but they'll beg for her to kiss them. Maybe she will, maybe she won't, but the decision will be hers and hers alone.

Slash picks up the whip sitting on the table next to her, running a hand down the length of it and wondering who will get punished by her tonight. As long as they pay her, it doesn't matter who. Anyone can get dominated by Slash if they have the money.

Slash heads out of the back room, passing her old mentor in the doorway and momentarily hesitating at the dirty look Hazel gives her, still confused to this day why she stopped talking to her so abruptly. But she soon brushes it off and heads out to the main room of the brothel. Asha would be bothered by Hazel's actions, but not Slash. And Slash has a job to do.

Her boss was thrilled to see Slash there early today and the clients clearly are too as Slash stalks into the room, hips swaying and hand on her whip as she stares down the clients, wondering who will be brave enough to pay for her services tonight. A few squirm in their seats and quickly look away from her while others keep eye contact with her and still follow her movements as she takes a seat at the bar, arching her back on the stool to put her leather clad ass on full display to the clients.

"You're here early," Valero says as he sets down a glass of water in front of her. He leans against the counter, taking in her appearance before wiggling his eyebrows at her. "You know, there's not many people around and I could think of a couple ways to pass time."

Slash rolls her eyes at him as she leans back, taking a sip of water and letting some fall down her chin and towards her chest, along the swells of her breasts, Valero's eyes following it the entire time. She watches him swallow and adjust the collar of his shirt before holding back a smug smile as she sets the glass back down. "Only if you're going to pay," she teases as she leans over and starts running a fingernail gently along the exposed part of his arm, enjoying seeing him tense up. When he reaches for her hand, she slaps it away and leans back, "You know the rules, no touching unless I say so, and that's after paying. But we all know you can't afford me."

"You hurt me so much, Slash," Valero teases as he puts a hand over his heart.

"That's what I'm here to do," Slash answers with a grin, giving the whip sitting in her lap a few pats. "And people love when I-"

"This seat open?"

Slash slowly glances over her shoulder at the client standing there, recognizing the voice right away. Safa – if that's even her real name, which Slash doubts in this place – is standing there, one of Slash's loyal clients who keeps coming back for more. The young business woman always comes back, desperate for a break from her daily life. Slash knows she'll pay whatever Slash asks of her, and also that she loves to play the game for dominance with her before giving in to Slash, just like they always do. "Not anymore. Sit."

But Safa ignores her instructions, instead choosing to lean against the bar as she stares defiantly back at Slash. "Actually, I think I'm good standing. Just wanted to make sure no one else had claim on you."

"No one claims me," Slash answers with a laugh. "I claim them. And they all listen to what I tell them to do or they are punished. Now sit."

"I'm not very good at following instructions," Safa whispers in her ear as she steps closer to her and puts both hands on Slash's hips. "Maybe I need someone to punish me."

Slash pushes her back and raises an eyebrow, pretending to question her actions and watches as she takes in her leather clad body. "Maybe I can help with that. For a price, of course."

"Of course," Safa echoes, knowing glint in her eyes. "We are in a brothel, after all. Any price, you name it and it's yours."

"You know my price," Slash says as Safa slaps the coins down on the counter in front of her. Slash raises an eyebrow at her, slowly beginning to smirk at the eagerness of Safa. She scoops up the coins and pulls out the coin purse from tucked near her breasts, making a bit of a show as she puts the money away. "Very well. Go," Slash demands, pointing back to her room.

Safa listens to her, but drags her feet a little, knowing that it will get her punished by Slash. Slash pushes her forward, fighting back the small guilt trying to push through, reminding herself that this is what the clients want. They _want_ her to hurt them. And she likes hearing them beg for her.

Slash kicks the door shut behind her as she unfurls her whip, watching as Safa follows her actions. "You know the rules. Only talk when I talk to you first. You will address me as Slash or mistress, nothing else. When I tell you to do something, you do it, no questions or protests. The safe word is tree, but saying it won't give you your money back. You knew what you were paying for when you paid. Break any of the rules and you'll be punished," Slash cracks her whips, demonstrating exactly what will happen if Safa breaks a rule.

"I'm bad with rules," Safa whispers and Slash lashes out at her with the whip, making the woman bite her lip as she holds back crying out at the pain. But Slash knows punishment is exactly what she wants. It's what they all want. "I think I need you to teach me how to listen."

Slash grins as she steps closer to her client, knowing this will be a good night in control.

* * *

_Agapios Wheatley Hallorian, Escort for District Nine_

It's hard to believe just how many years Agapios has been in District Nine as their escort, but he wouldn't want it any other way. The shift in attitude was slow over the years and at first he was like every other escort that wants to move up to a 'better District' with more victors, but soon he realized the quirks of Nine that has made him keep coming back here year after year, and he hopes he keeps coming back here for years. Maybe he'll even reach the 50 year mark in Nine. Sure, they might not get as many victors as the career Districts do, but that makes the years they do bring home a victor that much more special. And the few victors he has brought home…they're his friends and he wouldn't trade that for the honor the others say they have by being in a higher District.

Agapios shuts his pocket watch when the hand strikes the hour exactly and steps out onto the stage, insisting on staying exactly to schedule after all these years. He does spare a second to smile over at his victors, proud of each one he helped get back home to Nine. He clears his throat at the microphone and gives a small smile to the crowd of children gathered there, understanding now just what they will be going through in the arena and refusing to be over the top and oblivious like some escorts. They are still children and no matter what he does, at least one of them will not make it back here, something he only realized after a few years in Nine. "Hello, District Nine. It's good to be back here like every year and I am looking forward to doing my very best to bring you home another victor. You know me, I'm Agapios Wheatley Hallorian, but enough talking, let's pick the two tributes."

Agapios is never one to spend too much time speaking at the Reapings – unlike some escorts who will send all of the them off schedule – and the children waiting don't want to wait longer than necessary to know who will be selected. He quickly selects the first name and returns to the microphone, ignoring the aching in his body that's starting to flare up more and more with each year. But getting old is a privilege he is lucky to have. The same can't be said for the two tributes he reaps today.

Agapios clears his throat before speaking the first name and waiting for the child to step forward. "Our first tribute is Asha Kader."

A few seconds pass with rustling at the very front of the crowd until a shocked looking girl steps forward to make her way up to the stage. At first, she keeps her eyes down and tucks back her hair, hiding a little bit dyed red under the rest of thick black hair. But as she gets closer, she slowly picks up her head, revealing a pretty face free of blemishes, and an air of confidence in her honey colored eyes. She puts her shoulders back as she reaches the stage and slowly walks up them, not in the way a shy tribute would do, but one who knows she has attention on her and isn't flinching away from it.

As she takes the stage, Asha takes a long look at one of the mentors, before facing the crowd, sparking Agapios' curiosity as he sees the way Lelantos stares back at her. It's not his place to get into their troubled past…but he might have to in order to help her in the arena. Of course, permitting there are no volunteers… "Would anyone like to volunteer for Asha?"

Like most years, no one steps forward, so Agapios gives a small apologetic smile to Asha, but she barely seems to notice as her eyes show her deep in thought as she faces the crowd. "Very well, let's pick the second tribute."

Agapios once more quickly picks the next name, holding back a grimace as his hip flares up in pain from turning too fast to return to the microphone. But he keeps his face neutral, respecting the lives he is uprooting today. His pain is nothing compared to theirs. "Our second tribute is Laine Lawson."

A shocked boy steps out from the fifteen year old section after a few seconds pass, shock mirroring the look that had been on Asha's face when she first stepped out. But unlike her, as Laine approaches, his shoulders slump down in resignation and he turns down his face slightly to use his long shaggy dark hair to hide his eyes from the crowd. When he reaches the stage, he hesitates for a second before reluctantly taking his place on the stage beside Agapios. "Are there any volunteers for Laine?"

Once more, the crowd stays silent and Agapios lets out a heavy sigh as he glances at his pocket watch, verifying that they are still on schedule, before facing the two tributes he will do everything he can to assist this year. He isn't underestimating either of them – he's seen bigger underdogs win the Games before. "Very well. Your tributes, District Nine: Asha Kader and Laine Lawson."

* * *

**Okay first things first, Happy Birthday to Celtic! Had to give you a birthday update of your girl! **

**Thanks to Celtic, of course, for both Asha and Agapios (he just always is here in my stories XD) and dsalazz for Laine! I know, this chapter is like, way overdue and my bad lol. I got stuck trying to pass that halfway point hill, then got into full Senseless Games mode and then once enough time passed, I knew I had to keep waiting to post this chapter on Celtic's birthday! But now that the Senseless Games are over, I'm finally shifting back into Legacy mode and I'm ready to start cranking through this story. And good news is I've done a bit of writing ahead and have about two more intros done at this point and ****we're gonna start cranking through them because I need to finish these intros before I wrap up Senseless and start intros for the sequel lol. **

**So thoughts on Asha/Slash? As we go through the Games, which side of her personality do you think will win out?**

**RQ #6:** Did you expect Celtic to send a doomed valid girl or not? (the one rule didn't apply to her but maybe it should have XD)

**Alrighty I'll see you all soon with Abel in District Four!**


	11. District 4: A Little Unsteady

**Chapter 7:**

_Aberforth "Abel" Barringer, 18, District Four_

_Three Months Before The Reaping_

Abel's feet are heavy as he slowly gets up the three steps leading to the front porch, his arm wavering as he pushes down on the railing from a day hauling material around the docks. But he pushes through and as he reaches down to help guide his leg up the last step, the porch lights flick on, bringing his attention to the door as it swings open, revealing the dumb grin of his best friend.

"Oh Abel, so sorry that we ate all the dinner, you just took so long!" Leith teases as Abel makes it up the last step, stopping to catch his breath and energy. His body just still can't handle this much exertion, yet he keeps pushing himself harder.

"Very funny, Leith," Abel shakes his head at his friend as he steps towards Leith and pulls him into a hug, patting his back a couple times before letting go of him. Leith follows him back inside and locks up the door as Abel takes off his jacket to hang by the door. "We both know my moms would never let you eat dinner without everyone home."

"Abel? Is that you?" Talise calls out from further in the house and he can hear her footsteps approaching until she rounds the corner, barefoot in her painter overalls and a brush tucked into the mess of curly hair piled on top of her head. She smiles when she sees her son and gives him a kiss on the cheek, just like she's done every day he's returned home the last two years. "Ah good timing, your sisters just finished setting the table. Come on!"

Abel turns to look over his shoulder at Leith, raising an eyebrow at his mother proving his point. Leith just chuckles at him and takes a quick step to walk next to him, throwing his arm around Abel's shoulders as they head towards the dining room. He knows better than to question why Leith is here, his mothers long ago establishing the rule that Leith can stay over with them whenever he wants. But he wants to question his friend today…everyone at work was gossiping about it today. Abel stayed out of it, avoiding the stares by ducking underwater to work, but he couldn't fight the curiosity in him to know the answer too.

But he also couldn't fight the jealous pit in his stomach every time he thought about the victors announcing the names, knowing he should have been there, knowing if everything had kept on track, they would have been calling out _his_ name.

Abel holds in a sigh at this thought, hating the resentment he feels right now towards his best friend. He doesn't even know if Leith was chosen today, anything could have happened. And he has no right to be feeling this way. He had his karma for getting too cocky about training. This is just the last piece of it – never getting the honor of being the volunteer chosen by the victors.

At least he can blame exhaustion from the day of work for why he only has half a smile as he joins his sister and mother at the table with Leith. But when he looks across at Nereida, he knows his twin sees right through him, just like she always does. Abel gives her a pleading look to not bring it up, and she gives a subtle nod of her head before turning her attention to the food she's putting on her plate, but he can tell she's only staying quiet until later when they're alone.

The youngest of their family runs into the room, and Noel lets out a noise of excitement at seeing him back home and nearly tackles him out of the chair with a hug. "You're home!"

"Good to see you too," Abel pats her on the head, laughing as she throws herself into the seat next to him. "You act like I was gone for a month, not just the day at work."

"Yeah, but it's a big day and Leith refuses to tell me yet what happened and I'm dying to know," Noel drags out the last word dramatically, pretending to faint in her chair – always the dramatic one of the family.

"Noelani," Jorah says cautiously, and Noel sits up right away and stops laughing at their mother's tone. "Give Abel a moment to breath, he just got home from work."

"Yes, mom," Noel says quietly, intently staring at the food she scoops onto her plate.

Abel gives her a little nudge with his elbow, getting his youngest sister to barely glance his way. "It's no problem, alright?" He says quietly to her as Jorah starts fretting over her wife sitting at the table with paint all over her.

"Even if Leith is chosen, I bet Abel could still kick his ass," Hali jokes around with Abel before holding back a snicker as she spins their sister Brynn's plate around, waiting for her to take a bite of food while expecting something else. "His legs aren't stopping that."

"Hali, stop," Abel tells her, hating the pride and arrogance swelling in his chest at her telling him that. Brynn frowns as she turns in his direction, always quick to pick up on his mood from his voice. "The trainers made their choice with me years ago. We'll respect whatever decision they made for Leith."

"We still don't even know what that decision is!" Noel whines and Leith reaches past Abel to ruffle he wild mess of red hair. She swats his hand away, laughing as she does so.

"I suppose I can tell you now that Abel's home," Leith says, and the rest of the conversation at the table quiets down, everyone clearly waiting to hear what their honorary member of the family has to say. "Well…I was chosen."

Noel lets out a squeal of excitement and Brynn smiles at Leith, looking so proud of him for being picked as the volunteer. Nereida stares at Abel though, watching his reaction as he forces a smile for his friend. He knew this was the likely possibility ever since he was out of training…he just never expected this sting of jealousy towards someone he considers his brother. "That's great," Abel forces himself to say as he pats Leith on the back. "I'm really proud of you."

And he is…just also extremely jealous of Leith getting the opportunity that should have been his.

* * *

Abel's steps are slow as they walk out towards the water, needing the peace and clarity he gets from it after that dinner announcement from Leith. His best friend trails behind him, even as his face shows he's been nervous ever since Abel suggested going outside to talk. Abel slowly lowers himself to the sand, seeing where he's going in the moonlight and ignoring Leith offering a hand out to help him. Sometimes he might accept the offer, but not tonight…

Leith notices the jab right away and sighs as he sits down next to Abel. "I know you're upset so don't even try to lie to me."

"I'm not," Abel tries to say, but when Leith gives him a look, he shakes his head and turns away from him, staring out at the water in front of them. "I don't know what to think right now. I want to be happy for you…"

"But part of you still feels like it should have been you getting picked?" Leith offers and Abel glances over at his friend getting his thoughts spot on. "Yeah I've been thinking that too… Can I be honest with you Abel?"

"I'd be upset if you weren't," Abel responds to him, even though a part of him doesn't want to hear Leith talk about getting picked as the volunteer.

"I don't want to be the volunteer," Leith tells him, sighing heavily at this statement. "I felt like I had to say yes to it because maybe it's like I'm doing it for you. And that got me thinking…if everyone thinks I'm going to be the volunteer, no one will step forward to challenge me. In theory, I could just not volunteer and the spot would be open for anyone…"

"And then you would have the wrath of the victors coming down on you for not volunteering," Abel points out to him. "Don't do something stupid like that, Leith."

"Not even if it was to let you volunteer instead?"

Abel freezes up at this, slowly turning his head to look over at his friend. "Is this some kind of joke?"

"It's not at all," Leith answers honestly and tries to smile encouragingly at him. "Come on, Abel, I know it's been your dream all these years… Why not do it?"

"Because I'm a cripple, Leith, that's why I shouldn't," Abel snaps at him before immediately feeling bad about it. "I'm sorry…it's just not a possibility. I can't win the Games like this."

"I wouldn't have offered if I didn't think you could," Leith tells him softly, but Abel refuses to look at him, letting his emotions swirl and take him down the dark path he used to live in for the first few months after his injury. Now it's only occasionally he feels this worthless and useless, especially now as he sits next to his friend who is perfectly able and was chosen by the victors for Abel's biggest dream. Yet he can't blame his friend for it, not when he's risking the repercussion of not volunteering for him. "I think I should probably head home tonight instead of staying over."

"Probably," Abel whispers, scared of speaking louder and letting his best friend hear all the emotion in his voice. "Sorry, Leith, it's…just a lot to process after everything that's happened."

"I know…" Leith sighs and runs a hand through his hair before turning to face Abel directly. "Are we still cool man?"

Abel turns to him at this, confused by his question. "Dude, why wouldn't we? We've gone through a lot worse things together, like when you broke your pinky toe when we were eleven and you sobbed for hours."

Leith gently shoves him at this, holding back a grin and the tension between them breaks, "We swore never to mention that again."

"You did, not me," Abel smiles at his friend, holding back a chuckle. "I swore I would never let you live it down."

"That's true," Leith answers with a laugh before patting Abel's shoulder. "Whatever you want to do…just know I'm going to keep being your number 2 fan, right behind Noel."

Abel can feel his eyes prickling at this, feeling like a shitty friend for all the loathsome thoughts he had earlier towards Leith. He turns back to the sea, taking a deep breath and trying to calm himself before answering Leith. "Thank you."

Leith gives him one last pat on the shoulder before standing up and quietly leaving Abel to sit at the edge of the water and think about what he offered. The dream that was shattered along with his bones two years ago…now sitting right in front of him. The dream that was all but guaranteed to him before he let his arrogance get the upper hand and karma taught him a very hard, but necessary lesson. He had finally let that dream go, knowing he wasn't going to ever get it. He accepted it and started to actually live again.

Yet now that it's presented to him once more…

"You should do it," Nereida says as she approaches quietly, making Abel jump at his twin interrupting his thoughts. She flops down into the sand next to him and Abel just shakes his head at her listening to their conversation. "I wasn't trying to eavesdrop, you know. I wanted to make sure you're doing alright with that news. But Abel…seriously, give it some thought."

"I really don't know if I can do it," Abel tells her, finally admitting the fear in him ever since Leith suggested he take his place. "Sure, I can volunteer, but then what? Will the victors support me as a rogue volunteer? Will I even be accepted with the other careers? Can I out survive the others that don't have a physical injury? You don't know how badly I wish I could go into those Games like any other able-bodied person and win like Delmar did last year. But I'm not like everyone else," Abel gestures down at the braces around his ankles and feet, the last outward sign of his accident.

"Yes, you _can_ do it, as yourself, not like everyone else," Nereida takes his hand, trying to get him to believe her. Her voice his harsh, yet compassionate, reminding him of the months after the injury when she would tell him day after day that he can keep pushing through the physical therapy and surgeries. "You have come back from the possibility of never walking again. You've pushed yourself to work in conditions that some men with normal legs can't even do. So I'm sorry, Abel, but you're not convincing me that you can't still go into the Games and win."

"But what if I don't win?" Abel asks her, the fear of death now a reality compared to his arrogant younger self. "I die. That's a worse fate than living this way."

Nereida shakes her head as she scoffs at him, and he knows he's in for some tough love from her, the kind that pushes him to get out of bed still some mornings. "I can't believe you right now. You have spent the last two years suffering to accept that your biggest dream could no longer come true and now that you have the chance to achieve it, you're too scared to take it. I'm scared too, Abel. That's why I dropped out years ago…I knew you would win then, and I still believe it. You're the strongest person I know and you've proven you can overcome worse things in life. You deserve this opportunity after everything that happened."

"I…" Abel lets out a sigh as he hunches over, overwhelmed by all of this. He just doesn't know what to think… "It's just a lot to think about and I don't know what I want anymore."

"Just make sure you take your time really thinking about it," Nereida tells him. "Don't let fear hold you back from doing something you might regret for the rest of your life."

"I won't," Abel says softly to her, staring out at the dark water in front of them and begging for it to calm him like usual or provide some sort of clarity. Even though he dislikes it…he can feel the jealousy rearing up in him at just the thought of his best friend going into the Games instead of him and knows his answer deep down. He knows what he wants to do…yet he's trying to hold back the arrogance he left behind after his accident, the emotion that led to him being like this in the first place.

But if he went into that arena as he is…Abel knows he can do it and prove everyone wrong that doubted him in his recovery. After all, if he can persevere through that, why can't he persevere in the Games?

* * *

_Nelena Aquillen, Escort for District Four_

As the victors take the stage to thunderous applause for the youngest of them, last year's victor, Nelena struggles to hold back her own overeagerness while keeping a balance of still being excited to be back in Four. She's spent years cultivating her public image, making sure the Capitol knows she's professional and polite, wants to do the job but not to bloodthirsty for tribute death… But she is very excited and proud to have brought home a victor last year, their first one after nearly a 20 year drought.

"Good morning, District Four!" Nelena tells the crowd, getting large cheers back in a stark difference to last year. Last year…they'd been so subdued – still mustering up energy to cheer for their volunteers – but nothing like this. She can feel her own grin beginning to form at everything about District Four and stops it from becoming a full grin, self-conscious of what the people back in the Capitol will think of her. _But it's good to be back._ "It's wonderful to be back here in District Four. What do you say, should we get this Reaping on the road and work towards getting back to back victors this year?"

Nelena can't fight the infectious good mood of the crowd, cheering as she goes to pick the first name. This year, she knows it won't matter who she calls out. But before…she had started to wonder if there would be a year when it _did_ matter who she picked. Luckily Delmar won before it came to that… "Okay our first tribute is Folami Myrvold."

The young girl quickly makes her way up to the stage, not looking afraid of being reaped and cluing Nelena in to there definitely being a volunteer this year. But she'd be surprised if there wasn't after last year. "Are there any volunteers?" Nelena asks the crowd as Folami joins her on the stage, waving at some people to the side of the Reaping area.

"I volunteer," a person calls out right away, and there's little fuss as ze step forward from the front of the crowd, although a few people do give zim a few curious looks as ze take the stage. Ze look rather ordinary compared to other volunteers Nelena has had over the years, with shaggy brown hair all over the place and hanging over zir dull eyes, zir tall frame slouched a bit as ze take the stage, zir hands tucked in the white dentist coat – probably the most remarkable thing about zim – ze wear over a plain button down shirt and slacks.

Nelena takes a quick glance back at the victors to confirm this is the correct volunteer and when nothing seems out of the ordinary, so she turns back to face the volunteer and gives them a gentle smile. "Welcome, what's your name?"

"Orin Rensch," ze answer blandly and the crowd takes a second to react to Orin before giving applause.

"Welcome, Orin," Nelena says in a friendly tone before addressing the crowd once more. "Let's see who will be joining Orin!"

Nelena quickly picks her second name and calls them up, knowing it's just a formality before the volunteer steps forward. "And second we have Rhys Laisne."

This time the boy comes from the older group of children with just a hint of fear in his eyes, and Nelena gives him a reassuring smile and puts a hand on his shoulder for a moment before asking for volunteers. "And will there be a second volunteer today?"

"I volunteer!"

The crowd begins mumbling at the voice, the first indication to Nelena that this is not according to plan. "Okay everyone, make through for the volunteer," a second voice calls out, directing the group at the front to make a path to let the volunteer pass through.

"Leith, what the hell are you doing?" Okeanas yells out to him as she jumps to her feet and approaches the edge of the stage, murder in her eyes.

The second boy – the one Nelena can put together was supposed to volunteer – avoids Okeanas' eyes for a moment before taking a deep breath and meeting her gaze as he puts his hand on the shoulder of the boy next to him. "Letting the true volunteer take his spot. I'll take whatever consequences, just let Abel do this." Leith then looks around the crowd near him, fixing them with a look and challenging them, "Anyone else want to face her wrath by daring to challenge Abel? No? Good, go get them buddy."

Abel takes a deep breath before stepping out of the crowd, pushing back his damp dark curly hair as he slowly walks towards the stairs, his gait slightly off as he keeps his legs mostly straight and swings them around instead of fully bending his knees. And for a good reason, due to the leather and metal braces attached to the boots he wears, supporting his ankles as he walks. He keeps his head high and a proud look begins to fill his features as he makes his way up the stairs, using the railing to help himself up, and at the top of the stairs, Nelena can see the emotions in his eyes as he struggles to hold back tears. "Aberforth Barringer, ma'am," Abel tells her when he reaches her, holding out his hand politely to shake hers. Nelena takes his hand, watching as the tears nearly pour over. "It's an honor to be up on this stage."

"Nice to meet you, Abel," Nelena tells him politely before looking over at Okeanas. Even she is a bit afraid of the victor, and she waits to see what she has to say about him volunteering.

"Someone else needs to mentor him because I sure as hell won't be," Okeanas says in a huff as she returns to her seat, arms crossed in anger as she instead glares down at Leith in the crowd.

"I'll do it," Muir speaks up quietly, starting a murmur in the crowd over the victor agreeing to mentor when she rarely does.

"Very well," Nelena says, surprised by this turn of events. She glances at both of her tributes before addressing the crowd. "Your tributes are Orin Rensch and Aberforth Barringer."

* * *

**There we have District Four! Thanks to TheMayflyProject for Abel and goldie031 and dsalazz for Orin and Nelena! A much faster update this time around for Abel XD And just to clarify, Orin's pronouns are ze/zir/zim. **

**And with this, we have seen all of the career Districts! Quite the unconventional year in terms of volunteers, with two rogue volunteers. As always, I'd love to hear what you think about the chapter and Abel!**

**RQ #7:** Do you think there will be a full career back or will it be fractured this year?

**So good news, the next two chapters should come rather quickly as I have them fully written already! I'll update Senseless first but after that, we'll have two updates for this! And then I just have to crank through two more intros and we'll be all done with them and on to the fun stuff! **

**See you soon in D8!**


	12. District 8: Divide Them With Doubt

**A/N: Trigger warning for this chapter.**

* * *

**Chapter 8:**

_Grey Pendleton, 17, District Eight_

_One Month Before The Reaping_

_3:08._

Grey lets out a sigh as he looks up from his watch and back towards the school door, leaning against one of the cement pillars lining the front gate. He starts cracking his fingers, one by one, as he stares at the door, waiting for his cousin. She should have been out by now…and he's growing more impatient by the minute, knowing this delay is going to cut into his schedule of going for his afternoon run. She knows that he's here waiting for her, yet she's still not out yet.

A few stragglers leave the door and Grey momentarily straightens up, putting on a kind smile as he casually waves at the students walking past him. A couple wave back while the others keep talking to themselves, ignoring him as they leave, too focused on their plans for the weekend. Once they're past him, the smile soon fades from his face, replaced by a look of annoyance towards Quill.

_3:10._

"Come on, Quill," Grey mutters to himself as he glances impatiently at his watch once more. There's no doubt in his mind that his aunt is to blame for Quill's tardiness, having not properly raised her to recognize being punctual, or at the very least letting people know if she'll be late. But as he turns towards the door again, part of him starts to grow worried for her. Did something happen to her? That could explain why she's late… Should he go inside and check? Or wait a bit longer and show her that she needs his help?

But before Grey can make up his mind, the door opens again and Quill steps outside, pausing at the top of the stairs to look around for a moment and when she catches sight of him, a scowl forms on her face. She starts storming down the steps, ignoring Grey completely.

"What happened? Are you okay? Did you get hurt in any way?" Grey asks quickly as he walks over to Quill, examining his cousin's physical appearance very quickly for any visible signs of harm.

A sneer forms on her face as she gives him a long side glare, one that Grey is all too familiar with, and he braces himself for another challenging day of convincing her that he's right. "What happened is I was taking my time trying to avoid you."

"If you were going to take this long, you should have told me so I could have come in and helped you pack up faster," Grey shakes his head at his cousin as she starts storming off towards her home, not waiting for him. "Quill, wait for me. You know it's not safe for you to be walking home alone without me. Just look at what happened when you did that before. Do you really want to lose your other arm?"

"Oh don't start acting like I can't do anything with this," Quill retorts to him as she waves her right hand at him. Grey picks up his pace to keep up with her storming, refusing to let her walk home alone without him, even if she is intent on doing everything to push back against him. "You know, I was having a bad day already and seeing you just made it absolutely awful."

"What happened? Did someone hurt you? If they did, it's because I wasn't there," Grey shakes his head as he stares ahead, smile still on his face for the people they pass on the streets. Wouldn't want them thinking he's being anything but a kind young man helping out his younger cousin. But Quill lets out a laugh of indignation, pushing Grey's already thin patience with her and getting close to his limits. "Quill, why do you insist on being insufferable?"

"Maybe you should ask yourself that," Quill tells him as she pauses for a moment at the crossroad, before looking both ways and crossing before the light has changed.

"Quill, stop!" Grey yells at her as he starts running after her in the crosswalk, only for her to stubbornly do exactly that and stop in the middle of traffic. She crosses her arms as a car honks at them, having to stop for them, and Grey grabs her arm and drags her out of the road and back onto the sidewalk. "If you nearly get yourself hurt when I'm with you, what do you think would happen if I wasn't around?"

"I'd be safer because you wouldn't make me so damn mad!" Quill yells at him before yanking her arm out of his grip and stomping off towards her house once more. Grey sighs before catching up to her, which only makes her glare at him. "Why do you even waste your stupid time with me? Just go home and be an ass to your actual siblings since you have them wrapped right around your slimy finger."

Grey's patience is very quickly getting to its limit and he just stares ahead, refusing to respond to her comment. He doesn't like ignoring her, but at this point, it's the only way she's going to learn. He keeps a smile on his face, but it's very forced at this point. Why can she not see that she needs him? He's the only one that can protect her. Clearly her mother can't do that since she let Quill get injured years ago and become disabled. If Grey had been there that day, it would have been a completely different outcome. Maybe Quill just needs to see how he's the only one that can protect her…

"Are you ignoring me?" Quill asks him and Grey keeps staring straight ahead, refusing to talk to her when she's acting this way. From the corner of his eye, he can see her look over at him, and he just shakes his head at her. They turn the corner onto her street and she lets out a 'hmph' of satisfaction. "Good, I don't have to listen to your aggravating voice anymore."

Grey takes his time answering her, wanting her to know that she has hurt him by acting out this way. They pass a few run down houses in silence until reaching the next crosswalk and Quill has a skip in her step as she crosses the street, surely feeling like she's won this argument with him. But she hasn't. Not even close to winning against him. "You know Quill," Grey says with a heavy sigh as he follows her across the street, "It truly hurts me to have to ignore you. And I know it hurts you too not having your favorite cousin talking to you."

"I'll show you hurt," Quill mutters as she starts fumbling with her arm, her pace slowing to focus on it.

"Careful, Quill," Grey warns her a moment too late to stop her from walking into a light pole, entirely her fault for focusing on her arm instead of where she's going. He could have pulled her aside, but sometimes he has to just let them learn and get hurt. He sighs as Quill lets out a noise of pain and rubs the spot she hit, "I warned you, Quill. You get hurt even when I am around, so what would have happened if I wasn't here?"

"Hmm, I wouldn't have run into it in the first place because I wouldn't have gotten frustrated at you," Quill responds before pulling off her prosthetic arm and smacking him across the chest with it, quickly making the smile disappear from his face. "I don't need your damn help!" Grey snatches the prosthetic out of her hand and holds it up high enough where she can't reach it, even when jumping. Not a hard thing to do consider she's more than half a foot shorter than his tall stature. She starts shoving his chest when he doesn't give it back to her, her face showing growing anger and worry. "Give it back to me! I'm serious, Grey!"

Grey fixes her with a blank stare, making her take a step back from him right away and stopping her jumping for her prosthetic. She eyes it nervously as Grey stays silent, the bustling of the city as everyone starts heading home for the day filling the empty silence as he watches her carefully, pushed to his breaking point.

"Really, Quill?" Grey asks in an emotionless voice as he brings the prosthetic arm down to look at it in front of him for a moment, before sliding his bag off his shoulder and crouching down to better unzip it. "You know, I thought better of you. I never expected that you would reach such a low point where you feel the need to hit me with _this_," Grey holds the arm up for a moment before sliding it into his bag.

"Grey, what the hell?" Quill asks him as he zips up the bag and swings it back onto his shoulder as he stands up. Quill tries to shove his chest with her remaining hand, but he stands firm, barely getting moved by her and further proving to him that she needs him there protecting her. She's not strong enough to defend herself on her own, especially without her prosthetic. "Damn it, give me back my hand, you asshole!"

"No, Quill," Grey responds, pushed to his very limit and his voice raising in anger, surprising both of them. He shakes his head at her before continuing to walk towards her house, knowing she'll follow him now that he has something of value to her. "It's clear to me now that your mother has failed to raise you properly. Insulting your cousin? Who has done so much to care for you and help you after your accident? Show some damn gratitude!"

Grey lets out an angry laugh as he stops in front of Quill's house, knowing his aunt is never going to raise Quill properly, not the way that he would. He sees the fault of her upbringing now, all stemming from his aunt insisting that she could properly raise Quill and no longer needing Grey to watch over her a couple years ago. "I should have fought harder against your mother, insisted she needed me more after your accident. That was a failure on my part – more so a failure of your mother, though. A failure I plan to fix."

"Grey…" Quill says quietly as she tries to get past him, keeping her distance to reach the path up to her front door. "Give me back my arm…you're scaring me."

Grey stares off blankly for a few seconds before bringing his stare to her, barely hearing what she said. "I'm going to be in charge of raising you from now on. And to show how much better I can raise you, here," Grey tosses his bag at Quill, watching her barely catch it with her hand. She quickly unzips it and takes out her arm, cradling it to her chest to try and stop him from possibly taking it again, before kicking his bag back to him and spilling some of the contents. Pitiful, really, how dependent she is on it, even though she claims she can still do anything with it. If she would have let Grey help her, he would have shown her what she could do without the prosthetic – within reason, of course. He'd still need to keep her in line.

"You're insane, Grey. How the hell do you propose doing that, dimwit?" Quill yells at him from her front porch, gesturing around to the buildings surrounding them with her prosthetic arm angrily. "You don't even have a home!"

"You'd never have this anger with me raising you!" Grey tells her, voice raised in anger that makes her take a step back from him as fear crosses her face. Grey's mind works slowly through the burning anger in him towards his aunt, trying to put together the pieces of his plan. "I'll get myself a home," Grey tells her as he tries to figure out how to do that at seventeen and without a proper job – babysitting doesn't pay nearly enough to afford a home. "I'll…"

Grey trails off as his brain finally puts together the plan, a brilliant plan, he'll admit, of how he will get a home and a proper lifestyle for Quill, away from his aunt who continues to fail at raising her. There's one clear way that he can get a home – a damn nice and expensive home – without needing to get a job that forces him to work 80 hours a week. That wouldn't do, then he'd have no time to raise Quill properly. A slow smile begins to form on his face as he picks up his bag, shoving the things back in it as he stares at Quill's terrified face. "One month, Quill. In one month, I will get you a proper life and fix the failures of your mother. Just you wait."

Quill stares at him for a few more seconds before running inside her house, leaving Grey to finish packing his bag alone. He'll scold her tomorrow about leaving him without saying goodbye. For now, he needs to get home. He has some training to do.

* * *

_Maeryn Callahan, Escort for District Eight_

Chef Mae takes the stage in District Eight to some cheers of excitement from those she's a familiar face to, those that look forward to her quips and words she'll have for the chosen tributes. Most of them belong to those past the Reaping age, safe from getting called a fucking donkey or maybe a miserable wee bitch. At this point, Chef Mae mostly keeps up the insults in public because it's expected of her. Everyone waits and speculates on what insults Chef Mae will have cooked up for her District each year since it's the only chance they get to see them now that Mae's shows have been over for several years in favor of working at her small restaurant. And yes, maybe she's gotten a bit softer in her years of seeing tribute after tribute go through the Games, most of which not making it back home alive despite their best efforts.

Except for sassy young Astrid. She'll always have some quips for the young lass and she'll fire them right back at her, not holding back at all. Yes, Chef Mae loves the victors she's managed to bring home – even if she'll always be mad at herself for taking that promotion the year Barathea won.

"Alright you twats, let's get down to the Reaping! We have a fucking schedule so don't waste time diddling yourself and get up on the stage when I call your name!" Chef Mae yells at the crowd, hands on her hips and staring them down. "If you don't know who I am, hello, I'm Chef Mae and welcome to reality you dimwit, I've been an escort here for over _twenty_ years!"

A few cheer at this in the crowd and Chef Mae shakes her head at them as she heads over to the first glass bowl, "This isn't a fucking sporting event, it's the Reaping. Calm down, you dumb nuts."

Chef Mae gives the crowd a firm look, keeping them quiet as she picks the first name. She really wishes they'd be more respectful of the children being picked, not just getting excited for her insults. "First up is Cheraline Dagen."

The escort waits at the microphone for the girl to start making her way out from the crowd, but before she even gets halfway towards the stage, a slurred angry voice calls out, "I-I volunteer."

Chef Mae raises her eyebrows as she watches a girl stumble out from the fifteen year old section and start approaching the stage. "Do we not know manners here? Come on, District Eight, you know you wait until I ask…" But Mae trails off as the girl gets closer to the stage, recognizing that whatever drove this girl to volunteer was not a good reason. The girl wears a sweaty t-shirt and ripped pants that don't hide the bruises covering her arms, in various states of healing. Her hair doesn't cover the fresh black eye or the split lip with a bit of dried blood caked to it.

"What's your name?" Mae asks quietly as she gathers the girl on the stage, looking around nervously at the victors and others on the stage, recognizing the abuse on the girl.

"Gwenith," she slurs and Mae picks up on the smell of alcohol on her breath. "Gwen…Drezzel."

"Okay Gwenith, we'll get you taken care of," Chef Mae reassures her, but she suspects the girl is too far gone to recognize what she's saying or just what she volunteered for. Mae looks back on the stage and a Peacekeeper steps forward to take Gwenith's arm, keeping the girl upright on the stage.

"Well then," Chef Mae addresses the crowd as an uneasy muttering passes over it. Gone is the energy they had when Mae first appeared, leaving behind uncertainty at Gwenith volunteering. Mae doesn't even know for sure what to even say now and she clears her throat, knowing she needs to keep up an act for the Capitol. "If anyone else is going to do that, don't be a rude ass and wait until I ask for volunteers."

Chef Mae takes a deep breath before going to pick the other name, a bit frazzled at the turn of events today. Normally the Reapings here are so straight forward: she'll pick two names and that's it. They _very_ rarely have volunteers… "And the second tribute is Garlin Potson."

Chef Mae uses the time as Garlin heads up to the stage to compose herself and get back on track, so when the boy reaches the stage, she's ready to let the insults keep flying. "Now that we've waited until the proper time, anyone want to volunteer in the proper time?"

To everyone's surprise, a second voice does call out. "I volunteer!"

There's more murmuring in the crowd as a boy steps out from the seventeen year olds, wearing a simple white dress shirt with short sleeves, brown slacks being held up only by the belt he wears, and well worn out loafers. His hair is pushed back and gelled into place, leaving his face open for everyone to see who he is as he takes the stage with what Mae can only assume he thinks is a dazzling smile that will win everyone over. "Oi, what's your name?"

"Grey Pendleton, next victor of the Hunger Games," Grey answers confidently as he pushes back his hair some more before flashing the crowd a smile.

"Look at this imbecile, volunteering for the Games," Chef Mae says as she points at Grey standing all smugly on the stage, looking real proud of himself. She partially means the insult, really wondering what could possibly make this boy think volunteering is a good idea, but at least the Capitol will just view it as her schtick. "What are you trying to achieve lad by volunteering? Winning a trophy for having a single brain cell?"

The smile on Grey's face falters slightly, but he keeps it on as he fixes Chef Mae with a cold look. But he remains silent, ignoring her insult. She raises an eyebrow at him expectantly before turning to the crowd, "Ah, I see, that brain cell is working full force on your pride and can't afford any effort to talk. Very well, looks like we have our tributes. Gwenith Drezzel and Grey Pendleton."

* * *

**We are back with another intro! Big thanks to Little Knight Mik for Grey and Chef Mae and Brooke2214 for Gwenith! I've been having a lot of fun with Grey and all the invalid tributes we have in this cast of tributes! And of course, who doesn't love some good quips from Chef Mae? The train rides are going to be fun combining Grey, Chef Mae, and Astrid in one place lol.**

**It's time to get through these intros! I have all of the remaining intros and the reaping recap done so I have a stockpile for this (and Senseless) and will be able to consistently update every Friday for several weeks! I have a schedule on my profile if you're curious to see when I'll be updating things and I'm keeping it updated with chapters as I finish them.**

**RQ #8:** On a scale of 1 to 10, how dumb is Grey's plan? XD

**Alrighty, I will see you next week with District Five!**


	13. District Five: Keep It All Together

**Chapter 9:**

_Artem Nobyl, 14, District Five_

_Eight Months Before The Reaping_

Artem slows his pace as he reaches two blocks away from their apartment complex, struggling to compose himself and pretend to his fathers that everything went great today. He doesn't want their concern and to threat to go talk to the school, not after all the struggle they went through to get him there in the first place. He put up with this for a year at the old school…he can deal with it again to be around people, to actually have something normal in his life. After all they've done for him, he can't just throw away them doing this for him after the first day.

He just should have known that being him _and_ the new kid was just going to be a recipe for disaster. Why would this school and its students be any different from that last one?

The bustling sounds of Five and everyone slowly getting out of school and work surround Artem as he walks the last two blocks, adding to the noise with the soft clicking of his crutch on the sidewalk. He keeps his head down, avoiding the stares from people passing him – stares he never thought were malicious until a year ago. But as he stares down at the uneven sidewalk, carefully placing his crutch each time, he can feel his eyes prickling as he struggles to hold back the tears that have been threatening to fall all day. He just needs to get a little bit further…get into the apartment and use the excuse of taking a shower and then he can let it all out without his fathers knowing. Because that's always worked in the past.

It rarely works.

Artem picks his head up as he approaches the front door of the apartment complex, letting out a sigh as he hesitates for a moment. What is he even going to say to them? Can he really pretend everything was just great and he loved school and made _so_ many friends? Artem can only assume that middle school is literal hell on earth.

"Watch it, freak!" Someone yells at him as they bump into his shoulder and crutch, knocking him off balance and sending him to the ground. Artem cries out in pain as he slams against the harsh cement, feeling his hand and arm scrap against it and the deep pain in his hip from landing on the crutch, all while the teen that shoved him over laughs as they join their friends, pointing at him as he struggles to stand back up.

One starts walking over to him and Artem braces himself to get kicked – wouldn't be the first time it's happened – until the boy stops and starts backing up at the look from someone approaching. "Hey fuckwad, back the fuck off."

Artem sits himself up as one of his neighbors down the hall crouches down next to him. Two years older than him, Ingrid has every right to just ignore him, yet she gives him an apologetic smile. "Doing alright, Artem?"

"Just fine," Artem says under his breath as he slowly gets himself back up, with Ingrid thankfully not trying to help him without him asking like so many people try to do. She does hand him his backpack once he's standing and he gives a small smile at her, while his cheeks heat up in embarrassment at her seeing what happened. "Do you mind not mentioning this to my dads?"

"I didn't see anything," Ingrid answers as she heads up to the door and punches in the key code, Artem hobbling behind her and wincing with each step at his bruised hip and the torn skin pressing on the crutch. She smiles as she holds open the door for him to pass through first and once his back is facing her, he lets the pain show on his face. "Man, teenagers really are such assholes."

"We're both teenagers," Artem points out as he presses the button for the elevator and Ingrid laughs at this, making him flinch for a moment before realizing she's not laughing at him, but what he said. He glances over at her as they wait for the creaking old elevator to reach the ground floor, discretely trying to hide his skinned arm from her concerned eyes. He can feel his stupid face heating up at her looking concerned for him and his heart beating a bit faster, and he's quite happy when the doors open up and he can step inside and avoid looking at her. Damn stupid crush…he really shouldn't have a crush on the one person close to his age that's actually nice to him. It's just a matter of time until she becomes like everyone else and sees him for the crippled person he's been his whole life.

"We're exceptions, then," Ingrid responds to him as she leans up against the elevator as they move up to the sixth floor, too far for even a normal person like Ingrid to want to take the stairs. But right now he wishes she would have…because he thought he was on the verge of tears before but now it could take one comment and it will push him over the edge.

Artem silently urges the elevator to move faster than snail's pace, so desperately needing to get alone inside his apartment. Any other day he would be excited about this conversation with Ingrid, but not today.

"Make sure you clean out those scratches right away," Ingrid tells him as the elevator slows at their floor, and Artem just nods his head, not trusting his voice right now. "Never know what piss there is on the sidewalks."

"Yeah," Artem mutters as Ingrid steps out first, using her arm to keep the doors open for him. He hobbles past her, avoiding looking at her face as he stops in front of his door – thankfully closest to the elevator. He can see from the corner of his eye Ingrid hesitating a bit nearby, and he quickly mumbles, "Thanks."

Artem steps inside his apartment before he can see the pity on her face – it's always pity or disgust on faces when people look at him. He slams the door and leans against it, taking a few breaths to steady himself, before realizing he should have been more subtle shutting the door to not notify his father that he's home.

"Hey Artem!" Boris calls out from the next room, his voice way too cheery and making Artem feel guilty that he might ruin that for him. "How was school?"

"It was fine," Artem answers as he hobbles over to his room, leaving the crutch by the door and choosing to get around the way he always has in this small apartment. He doesn't need to make his fathers upset with him too by knocking over something with his crutch on accident…that was what started all of this, bumping into Damask's desk as he tried to get to the one open desk in the back. He can still hear her insults as Fino snickered next to her before going back to praising his girlfriend, who just stared Artem down as if she was trying to pull back each layer of him and learn everything she could about him.

He can hear his father's footsteps behind him as the tears finally start to fall down his cheeks, making him pick up his one footed hopping through the hallway to get to the bathroom faster. "Artem?"

"I'm _fine_, Dad," Artem calls back, most definitely not fine at all. He does his damn best to hold in his sobs as he reaches for the bathroom doorknob, only to be stopped by a hand on his shoulder. Artem mutters a curse under his breath and turns his head down towards the floor. Of course his father caught up to him. Any normal person can probably walk faster than his run – if he could even call it that.

"You don't sound fine, kiddo," Boris tells him, before letting out a noise of concern as he grabs Artem's arm gently. He tries to tug it away, but Boris keeps a gentle but firm grip. "What happened?"

"The same thing that always happens," Artem mumbles, feeling his tears finally starting to slip out when he looks at his father and finds concern in his eyes. "It will be fine. _I'll_ be fine."

Boris frowns at this, clearly not believing him, but doesn't protest just yet. "Let's at least get these scratches cleaned up, okay?" Boris says before gently leading Artem into the bathroom and sitting him down on the closed toilet seat. Artem keeps his head down as he tries to stop his silent tears as his father rummages in the medicine cabinet while letting water run to warm up. "Did this happen at school?"

"Not that part," Artem says quietly, before realizing he admitted to more happening than he wanted to. He quickly continues, trying to distract his father by focusing on the scratches, but he can see on his face it's not working. "This happened on my walk home. It's just a scratch because I…fell…"

Boris raises an eyebrow at him as he gentle moves Artem's arm and starts wiping away the dirt, making Artem cringe at the sting. "Artem, you've been walking the sidewalks around here your whole life and haven't fallen on your own in years."

"I was shoved, okay?" Artem bursts out at him in frustration as more tears fall down his cheeks. "Is that what you want to hear? I was shoved to the ground and called a freak because of how I look!"

"Oh honey, you're not a freak," Boris tells him as he sets down the bandages to put a hand on his cheek. Artem just feels guilty when he notices the pain in his father's eyes at this, knowing it's his fault. He's just such a burden on his fathers, always has been… Why did they even adopt him? No one else wanted to, for good reason.

"Look at me, I am a freak," Artem says bitterly as he raises up his left arm, bringing attention to the fact that his arm ends before his wrist, before using that arm to point down at his right leg that ends just past his knee. And that's just the physical signs…who knows what else there is internally from the accident his birth mother was in. "It's clear as day."

"You're different, yes," Boris answers quietly as he runs the washcloth under warm water again. He gently uses it to wipe the tears on Artem's face, but there's new tears quickly falling. "Being different doesn't make you a freak. Your father and I love you for exactly as you are. In fact, we love you more because of all your differences that make you special."

"I don't want to be different, I just want to be normal!" Artem bursts out at him, no longer able to hold in his anguish anymore. He puts his head in his hand, shaking it as he lets out a sob. "I want to walk down the street like anyone else and not have everyone stare at me like I'm a freak because I use a crutch and am missing part of my leg. I want to be able to go to school like everyone else and have friends and just be treated like a normal person."

Boris is silent for a while and Artem slowly picks up his head to look at his father. He realizes quickly the mistake he made in mentioning school as soon as he sees the cool look in his father's eyes as he is frozen in place, his hands tightening around the washcloth he holds. "What happened at school today?"

"Nothing," Artem answers quickly and tries to wipe at his eyes, but from the eyebrow Boris raises at him, Artem knows he's not fooling him. He doesn't want to make a big deal of this. All he wants is to just be in an actual school, around people his age, and not have to switch schools after a year again. It took so many years of begging to let him go instead of being homeschooled…even more begging to just switch to this new school instead of getting back to being at home. He can't ruin it now. "It was fine."

"Artem," Boris says, his tone warning him not to lie to him. "What happened?"

Artem turns his head to the floor, not wanting to tell him…but he can't exactly lie now, not when his father knows something happened. "Just more of the same. Teasing the new student because they're _different_ and have to use a crutch to walk around."

"I fucking hate teenagers," Boris mutters under his breath and when Artem looks up at his father in surprise at his rare instance of cursing, Boris holds up a finger to him. "Don't tell your Dad I said that and don't repeat it. Do I need to go talk to the school?"

"I won't," Artem answers, both of them knowing Oswald is desperately trying to keep pretending that Artem is still ten and doesn't have quite the vocabulary of curse words. "But it's fine, Dad. Just dumb kids. Just let me deal with it, please?" Artem pleads with his father, more afraid of what Boris might do when upset compared to Oswald since it takes so much for him to reach this point. "I promise I'll be fine. I just…I want to feel _normal_."

"Being normal is overrated," Boris jokes with him, clearly trying to get him to smile and cheer up, but he sighs when it doesn't work. He pushes back Artem's hair from his face before putting his hand on his cheek. "Artem…I hope someday you realize you don't need approval from others… We've always tried to treat you like any other kid, but also protect you… Is going to that school really what you want?"

Artem nods his head quickly at this, not quite trusting his voice to not waver right now. "It is."

Boris gives a heavy sigh at this and steps back, staying deep in thought for a minute as Artem looks up at him with pleading eyes. "I want you to be happy… But you tell me as soon as anything like this happens again, okay?"

"Yes Dad," Artem answers right away, but he knows he won't be doing that. He knows it's going to continue and his fathers will take him out of that school right away… He'll just deal with the bullying and hopefully after a week or two, the novelty of him being the new student will go away. "I promise."

* * *

_Iris Roseau, Escort for District Five_

A nervous energy is bubbling inside Iris as she gets ready to take the stage, pushing down the wide-brimmed hat lined with flowers she wears before adjusting her pink curls so the blue tips are showing in front. Up until this point, she'd been enthusiastic about getting started as an escort for the first time and spent many hours asking Bee all sorts of questions about what to expect and what to do – so much time Mari started to joke she was spending more time with her parent than her. But she just wants to do her best right from the start, help her tributes to the best of her capabilities.

But now that she's standing in District Five, the excitement is mixing with anxiousness. She feels privileged to be in Five her first year, knowing that she could have been put much lower. Part of her wonders though if she was put here only because of her connections and not because of her enthusiasm and dedication towards the tributes… She just wants to do her best and help out the tributes, but also there's the concern that she'll come across as too excited for the Games to them. But she also doesn't want them thinking she doesn't care at all about them because that's far from the case.

Well she'll have to make sure she proves to them that she belongs here!

Iris is grinning as she steps outside onto the stage in District Five, but as she approaches the microphone – and cringes inside when her clumsy self trips a little on the way – her smile starts to falter as she takes in the children gathered in front of her. It's…not what she expected them to look like…she didn't expect the fear and sadness on their faces as they stare up at her. She's never had someone been afraid of her…she's not an intimidating girl, hell, just look at her appearance, she's wearing mostly pink! That's not scary at all.

Yet these children are afraid of her because of the power she has to pick their name.

Iris clears her throat as she stands in front of the microphone, trying to collect herself after getting a shock to her system about the sharp difference between the children of Five compared to the Capitol – some of which are the same age as her. With each passing second, her excitement starts to slip away, getting replaced with nervousness. "Hello, District Five. I'm your new escort, Iris Roseau. While I may be new, I have gotten lots of advice from Bee Morvay-Maxwell and I'm ready to do absolutely everything I can to help both tributes!" Iris clasps her hands in front of herself, trying to keep up the smile on her face as she looks at the children gathered in front of her, but it's hard when she gets fear in return. "I promise I'm going to do everything to get you another victor. Now I guess…I'll pick?"

Iris stares at the crowd for a couple seconds before nodding her head and making her way to the glass sphere to pick her first tribute, finding herself glad she took Bee's advice to not wear heels today. With how nervous she's starting to feel…she's almost certain she would have tripped in heels and that is not the first impression she wants to make.

She hesitates for a moment to pick a name, not wanting to further make the children of Five afraid of her, but soon picks one when she realizes that waiting around is just going to upset them further. "Okay," Iris says, clearing her throat at the microphone. "Our first tribute is…Margaery Fox."

The girl starts crying immediately at her name getting called out, making a pit of guilt instantly form in Iris. Margaery slowly makes her way up to the stage, brushing away the tears falling down her cheeks. As she gets closer, she sniffles a bit and tries to keep her held up and brushes back her hair, revealing big green eyes full of fear – and a little bit of hope. She wears a very nice white dress covered from top to bottom in black embroidered roses that Iris notices as she gets up to the stage. "Oh I like the flowers on your dress! It's very pretty."

From the look Margaery gives her, Iris realizes very quickly that complimenting her dress right now was not the right time to do that. "Right, sorry… Um, are there any volunteers for Margaery?"

No one steps forward – just as Bee had warned her of. Iris doesn't let it bother her, instead focusing on getting the next tribute picked before saying something else that will make District Five like her even less. She quickly picks the name, hoping to distract them from herself, only to bring more attention when she stumbles a little as she walks too quickly back to the microphone. "Um…Artem Nobyl. The second tribute is Artem Nobyl."

The boy who slowly makes his way up towards the stage is not what Iris expected and she puts a hand over her mouth in shock when she sees him, immediately feeling guilty that she picked his name. The boy has his head down as he slowly makes his way up, his long shaggy hair covering up his eyes from the crowd surrounding him. He uses a crutch to walk up to the stage, helping him since his right leg is amputated below the knee. No one steps forward to help him get to the stage, just watching in silence as this disabled boy heads toward the Hunger Games.

But when he looks up at the bottom of the stairs to the stage, Iris' heart breaks for the boy when she sees the numb look on his face and resignation as he makes his way up to her, seemingly accepting his death already.

Iris puts a hand on his shoulder gently when he reaches her, trying to give him a little bit of comfort. "We'll get you through this," she tells him, but from the look he gives her, it's clear he doesn't believe that at all. She turns to the crowd, hoping someone might be willing to step forward for him. "Are there any volunteers?"

Iris waits, hope slipping away with each passing second, until she has to accept that no one is stepping forward to volunteer. She straightens up and puts back her shoulders, recognizing that these are her two tributes and she will stubbornly do what she can to help one of them become the victor. "Very well, our tributes are Margaery Fox and Artem Nobyl."

* * *

**And we have District Five! Artem is another one of mine, so thanks to LordShiro and HogwartsDreamer113 for Margaery and Iris respectively! I'll share more of my process of developing Artem later on as we learn more about him, but I will say that his name does have a subtle reference to the inspiration for him!**

**With this, we only have two intros left and then we will finally be out of intro hell! I love this group of tributes, I just am tired of intros and want to get to the fun stuff XD One plus side of the social distancing and switch to online courses has been the increased time available to write, so I've been making good progress on both stories and we should have consistent weekly updates for a while. Gotta have something positive during this time. But everyone stay safe and follow the precautions and guides being put in place! **

**RQ #9:** How do you think Artem, Sasha, and Abel will react to tributes that are in similar boats to themselves?

**Alright everyone, I'll see you in two weeks for District Seven, with the last of my tributes, and then the following week will _finally_ be District Six (thank you Vr for being patient with having the last intro XD). See you all soon and stay safe!**


	14. District Seven: No One There To Hear

**A/N: Trigger warning for this chapter.**

* * *

**Chapter 10:**

_Pascal Flores, 12, District Seven_

_One Week Before The Reaping_

"Come on, twerp, it's summer!"

Pascal pouts as there's a large splash as his friends jump into the pool, covering him with water. He pulls at the wet shirt he wears, trying to get the baggy thing to not stick to him. He didn't want to go swimming with them today for exactly this reason…yet being the oldest of the four of them, Pascal somehow was responsible for keeping an eye on them.

When Elin asked their mother about going swimming today, there was no debate. What Elin wants, Elin gets.

Khaya pops her head up from the water, laughing at Pascal sitting there, soaked from her splashing him. "Lighten up, Pascal! It's the first nice day of summer, we should be having fun!"

Elin shakes their head at Khaya from where they're standing at the edge of the pool, staying near Pascal instead of joining Khaya and Cedar as they swim around and keep trying to dunk each other under the water. "Khaya, leave him alone. If anyone's the twerp, it's you."

Khaya responds with sticking her tongue out at Elin before splashing them both, leaving Pascal to hunch his shoulders over. He should be having fun like these two… Yet it's hard when every time all four of them are together, it's more obvious that he doesn't fully belong with them.

"Hey, you okay?" Elin asks him quietly, putting their elbows on the edge of the pool and watching Khaya and Cedar swim around for a minute before glancing up at Pascal.

"I'm okay," Pascal answers softly, even though he feels far from it. He hates summer time and the sticky heat that makes it a requirement to wear tank tops and shorts. Hates the way it becomes harder to hide his changing body under baggy clothes. And going swimming…yeah, there's a lot more things he'd prefer to go do compared to this. Elin sees right through him, just like they always seem to do. As soon as the frown forms on their face, Pascal quickly tries to change the topic away from himself, even though he knows they understand what he's feeling. "I'm fine, promise. You asked your mom for a pool day and I'm not going to ruin that for you."

Elin's frown deepens at this and they push themself out of the water to better sit next to him. "Yeah but it's not fair that she can force you to do things you don't want to do…"

"That comes with who she is," Pascal says bitterly, loathing Elin's mother just a little bit for the way she's always treated him for seemingly no reason. He's always tried to do his best to show he's on her side, willing to do whatever she asked of him, but it was never enough.

"I know, she's quite bossy, that's where I get it from," Elin tries to joke, giving him a nudge of their elbow, but Pascal just lets out a heavy sigh and makes their smile fade away. "Is it just the pool and being uncomfortable bothering you or is it something else?"

"That's part of it," Pascal shakes his head at them, staring at Cedar trying to push Khaya under the water for a minute before finally turning to face Elin. "It's hard not to be a little bit worried about the Reaping when I'm surrounded by three people who are all too young to be eligible. Just…it's always looming in the back of my head. It's impossible not to think about when it's all that's talked about in that house."

"Mom says we have nothing to worry about with the Reapings," Elin tells him so confidently, he almost starts to believe them for a moment.

Pascal shakes his head at them while letting out a bitter laugh, "Elin…she says that about you, and Khaya, and Cedar. The children of important people. I'm not like you. I'm nothing."

"You're important to me," Elin says quietly, not looking at him as they kick their feet in the water. Pascal can feel his cheeks heating up at their comment, even though it's stupid. He shouldn't feel so embarrassed by it, yet he does. Just…no one aside from Elin and his own mother has ever wanted him around. He's never really been important, not like the other kids he is always around, all of them forbidden from going to public school or out in the District.

Elin suddenly stands up and Pascal turns his head up, using his hand to block the sun from blinding him as he looks at them. "Come on, we're going to talk to my mother now and she'll tell you how you're safe from the Reaping, just like us."

"What?" Pascal asks them, confused at the statement for a moment but as he starts to realize what they said, he starts shaking his head. "No, Elin, please don't. She's busy and we're supposed to be swimming – that's what you asked her to do today."

"Well I don't want to swim anymore," Elin puts their hands on their hips, clearly believing their fantastic logic. "Khaya!"

"Yeah?" Khaya asks as she leans back to float on her back, looking as if there is nothing else she wants to do today aside from stay in the pool. Pascal wishes he could feel the same way as her so badly, feel comfortable enough with…_everything_… God, he hates puberty and the way he's become so uncomfortable with his body that he can't even relax and go swimming.

"We're done swimming so don't let Cedar drown," Elin commands Khaya, who rolls her eyes and sticks her tongue out at them being bossy. Cedar stops as he's about to dive back down under water to look over at them, confused on what they're doing. "Pascal and I have things to do."

"Uhuh, suuurrreee," Khaya calls at them as Elin starts dragging Pascal away from there, making Pascal look back over his shoulder to glare at Khaya. She always has to be an annoying prick to him, but at least she doesn't go for comments that actually hurt him.

Pascal turns back around, nearly tripping over the sidewalk as Elin pulls him along, shaking his head at their eagerness. He'd rather stay in the swimming pool with all his dysphoria than face Elin's mother. "Elin…is this really a good idea?"

"Of course it is," Elin answers him right away, sounding so confident about this. And why wouldn't they be? Their mother spoils the shit out of them, her precious only child. "You're concerned about the Reaping so we're going to hear directly from her that there's nothing to worry about. You know what she can do and she's going to keep us safe. Now shh."

Elin gently pushes open the sliding glass door leading into the kitchen, holding a finger up to their lips to remind Pascal to stay quiet, but he's not the concern here. He's more worried about them, knowing their tendency to act first and think second. As Elin quietly pulls him closer to the edge of the kitchen and Pascal can hear the raised voices from the living room in the next room over, he shakes his head and tries to pull them away from here. This is not something they should be hearing and if he gets caught… He can already feel the sting from times before when he got punished for stepping out of line – most of the times covering for Elin…

But Elin tightens their hold on Pascal, keeping him in place as they creep along the wall, trying to get closer to the room without being seen.

"Vera, I really can't believe you're actually doing this! Honestly, I'm stunned."

"Really, Kira?" Vera asks her husband, her voice full of accusation. "You can't believe I would do this after what _you_ did in the first place? This is all completely, 100% your fault."

Kira scoffs at her as Pascal and Elin share a look, their eyes wide at the argument happening between Elin's parents. "God, Vera, how many times do I have to apologize for that? It was a mistake! Have I not shown my loyalty to you every day? Punish me instead if you insist on still holding this grudge, but don't punish the boy. He's innocent in all of this and doesn't deserve to die!"

"He's not guaranteed to die," Vera tells him as Pascal's stomach starts to sink at the mention of a boy, just having an awful feeling about it… "He'll have his chance to win, just like the others."

"Not if they find out who he is," Kira says quietly, almost too quiet for Pascal to hear. "You know they'll do a background check on everyone and when they find out I'm his father-"

"You are _not_ his father," Vera interrupts, her voice cold and cutting deep, making Pascal terrified even though her words aren't directed at him. "You are nothing more than the person who couldn't keep his hands off of an attractive woman instead of staying faithful to your wife!"

They can hear Vera's angry clicking of heels on the floor and Elin quickly pulls Pascal back near the door to make it seem like they just came back inside, as Pascal's mind is reeling at what they overheard. "Hey Mom?" Elin calls out, looking around and playing up the act, both of them familiar with pretending they weren't listening to conversations that they weren't supposed to hear. Or, at least, conversations _Pascal_ isn't supposed to be hearing. Elin has started getting the privilege of sitting in on their mother's job and then later they'll sneak into his room to tell him all about it.

"Oh, Elin!" Vera stops in the doorway to the room, shock playing across her face for a split second before she composes it into a neutral look as she glances back over her shoulder at her husband for a brief moment. When she turns back to them, a chill goes down Pascal's spine at the brief look she gives him. "And…Pascal. Where's Khaya and Cedar? And how long have you been here?"

"We just came in," Elin lies smoothly, giving their mother a cheerful and innocent smile as Pascal subtly moves to stand behind them, wanting their protection from Vera. He's known for a while that Vera doesn't like him, but now after that conversation… Yeah, he's wishing he went to the bathroom before this because he's so terrified he feels the need to pee. "Khaya is watching Cedar still in the pool because I wanted to come ask you something."

"Of course, dear," Vera says cheerfully as she steps over, giving Elin a kiss on the forehead. "Anything you want to know."

Elin looks over at Pascal, who subtly shakes his head, knowing there's no way he's speaking up to Vera. Elin turns back to their mother, finding her staring down expectantly. Their father slowly steps out of the next room, looking between the three standing there, and Pascal doesn't miss the way his face twists as he looks at him. "Well, we were talking about the Reaping…I just want to hear again that we're going to be safe."

"Of course you'll be safe, Elin" Vera says sweetly, reaching out and putting a hand on their shoulder. "I won't let them take you, my baby."

Pascal doesn't miss the way Vera only addresses Elin, not both of them, and he starts pulling on Elin's hand to get out of there. Elin glances over at him, before smiling at their mother. "Great, that's all I wanted to hear."

"Now why don't you go back outside?" Vera asks, but her tone indicates that it's not really a question. "Go enjoy the summer."

"Okay…" Elin says slowly before starting to step back from her, still keeping up a smile. Pascal is faster than them, wanting to get out of the house quickly. "Thanks Mom."

"You're welcome, dear," Vera calls to them as they step out the door, and Pascal glances back at her, finding Vera giving him a look that sends shivers down his spine despite the sticky summer air pressing down on him.

Elin drags Pascal past the pool, not saying anything to him except to call to Khaya, telling her they're fine and to stay in the pool. "Elin, where are we going?" Pascal asks, growing concerned by their silence as they start walking towards the woods lining their backyard. "Elin, talk to me."

"I don't want to talk about that," Elin responds, but Pascal knows their tone well enough to know they do want to talk, they just haven't figured out what to think yet.

"What was that?" Pascal whispers to Elin as they keep pulling him out into the woods, away from their house. "Elin?" He asks, growing concerned when he hears them sniffling.

"Something we weren't supposed to hear," Elin answers quietly, their voice wavering with tears threatening to fall. They suddenly stop and turn to face him, revealing wet cheeks and red eyes. "I…I don't know what to even think right now. What she said about my dad… And who is the boy she's talking about?"

"I don't know," Pascal tells them, but the sinking feeling in his stomach knows this is a lie. He just knows…and suddenly so much makes sense in his mind of the years spent always living in Elin's shadow, never earning Vera's praise no matter how hard he tried.

He's the boy she was talking about…and he's terrified of what Vera might have planned for him.

* * *

_Winona Samson, Escort for District Seven_

Winona didn't think there would be a day when she's glad to not be working with Stefan, but she's glad he doesn't have to mentor this year. Now that Glen is 18, it's finally time for Stefan to take a well deserved break from mentoring, having had to do it for so many years – and so many years _alone_. It hasn't been easy on her partner being Seven's oldest victor, and she's done her best over the years to help him navigate that path.

But if she has to listen to him try to insist one more time that he should be mentoring this year, she swears she's going to put tape over his mouth to shut him up.

Winona gives Stefan a look to keep his mouth shut as she takes the stage, clasping her hands in front of her as she stops in front of the microphone. Staring out at the children gathered there, she finds a sort of comfort on their faces as they look up at her, a familiar sight in their District. And it's not just their home, it's hers as well – not that she can just go around advertising that she grew up in Seven with her parents doing undercover work for the Capitol. Part of her hoped she'd get to see her sibling today, but life as a Council Member is keeping them busy like usual.

"Good afternoon, District Seven," Winona greets the crowd warmly, keeping herself calm to help soothe the growing nerves of the children in front of her. "I'm Winona Samson and as always, it's good to be back here in District Seven. But I know you're all waiting to know who will be selected today, so let's get moving with that right away."

Winona heads to the first glass sphere, glancing over at Stefan as she picks a name, finding him with his arms crossed and pouting at having to stay behind in Seven this year. Winona shakes her head at him, rolling her eyes a little before reeling in her sass as she faces the crowd, growing somber about reading the name of their first tribute. "Alright, first up is Betula Washington."

Winona waits a moment until the child steps out from the back of the crowd, looking so resigned to their fate as their shoulders are hunched over their frail body. But an angry fire is in their eyes as they approach the stage, giving Winona a hint of what Betula might have to offer. There's soon commotion in the crowd as a girl runs out, following after Betula and quickly getting stopped by Peacekeepers. "Wait, Betula, let me go instead!"

"No!" Betula snaps, turning around to glare at the girl. "Just let me go die!"

A frown starts to form on Winona's face as she watches this happen, the girl growing resigned in the arms of the Peacekeepers who are looking up at the stage as Betula storms up it, clearly wanting to know if they should let the volunteer happen. Winona looks at Betula with concern, their sickly figure so much more noticeable up close. "Do you want her volunteering?"

"Not at all," Betula answers immediately, crossing their arms as they glare out at the crowd. "I'm dying anyways, might as well go die in the Games."

"Very well," Winona says softly, glancing back at the mentors and finding equal concern on Stefan's face, making her hold back a sigh as she knows she'll have to fight him staying here again. "I'll pick the next tribute then."

Winona doesn't waste time in picking the second tribute, briefly wondering if there will be similar commotion as with Betula. "And the second tribute is Pascal Flores."

A young boy soon steps out from the very back section – terrible luck this year, drawing two twelve year olds… The boy pushes his hair to the side as he looks around with a nervous energy to him, tensing up whenever he walks past a Peacekeeper and making Winona question what has happened in this boy's past to make him so nervous around them. He's slow making his way to the stage, a mix of resignation and stubbornness in his eyes as he finally reaches Winona. He gives Betula a brief look, before crossing his arms as he looks out at the crowd.

Great…a pair of stubborn preteens.

"Is there anyone that would like to volunteer for Pascal?" Winona asks the crowd and she notices Pascal tense up for a second before his shoulders relax, and Winona makes a mental note to ask him about that later on the train. "Very well. Looks like we have our tributes for this year: Betula Washington and Pascal Flores."

The crowd gives obligatory applause, most of them just relieved it wasn't them or their children select, and Winona begins gently leading the pair of tributes into the Justice Building. She gives a look over to Stefan, knowing his stubbornness, before getting distracted by the buzzing of her phone in her pocket.

"Luciano!" Winona answers the phone cheerfully, always happy on the rare occasions that their sibling gets a chance to call them. "What's up? Any chance I can see you before we leave?"

"Actually, yes," Luciano answers with a sigh, making Winona aware right away that it's a meeting for business, not because they want to see their sibling. "We have a problem."

* * *

**And there we have District Seven! Pascal and Winona are two of mine, so thanks to 20 for Betula! We finally only have one intro left for this story woo! ****So that's the last of my four and I will say the timing of this chapter in terms of other updates lately is *chef kiss*. I won't say why lol, that's for the RQ. **

**So I changed up the update schedule again to be more frequent updates because I've been chugging along with this story XD So check out my profile for the update schedule!**

**RQ #10: **Do you know the significance of the people in this chapter?

**Okie dokie, I will see you on Monday (yeah, like three days from now Monday) for our last intro!**


	15. District Six: Aching To Be Free

**A/N: We did it everyone, finally through the intros! **

**That being said, very big trigger warning for this chapter. This is probably one of the darkest intros I have written.**

* * *

**Chapter 11:**

_Iroha Kinoshita, 18, District Six_

_Six Months Before The Reaping_

Iroha sits completely still on the cool ceramic seat, shoulders rigid as she stares down at her watch, counting the seconds as they tick by. Five minutes. Five _fucking_ minutes she has to wait. She can't bring herself to do anything else in the time while she waits to find out what is going to happen to her, yet waiting is excruciating. Five minutes to wait and contemplate the results for the test that took her two weeks of extra work doing miscellaneous tasks for the Maxwells, just so she could have the confirmation now instead of waiting another month.

She doesn't know if she can wait another month…she needs the time to figure out what she's going to do if the result turns out the way she thinks it will…

_Four minutes._

"Fuck me," Iroha mutters under her breath, thankful that Noah is in the other room, very preoccupied with his toys and unable to hear her say that word. She can only imagine what Kayden would do to him – and her – if he heard Noah repeating that word…

"I can't do this," Iroha says as she stands up, starting to pace the small bathroom, taking only two steps before having to turn around and go the other way, all the while keeping her eyes glued to her watch. What is she going to do if that test turns out positive?

God, she knew that this was going to happen. It was only a matter of time until it happened again, yet she didn't get them out of here before Kayden could have another thing he holds over her. How is she supposed to leave and support not just Noah, but possibly another kid?

Iroha spares a glance down at the test sitting on the counter, taunting her with the ability to ruin her life further, before bringing her focus back to the watch. "Two more minutes, you can do this Iroha," she mutters to herself, even as she shakes her head and isn't sure she believes that. She knows what the result is going to say. Her period is late for two months. If she shuts her eyes, she can still feel his disgusting warm breath on her neck, feel his weight pressing down on her as he forced himself on her, night after night for the last few months. If she were to roll up her sleeves, she'd find hand shaped bruises on her arms from where he'd pin her down, trap her beneath him. No doubt there's other bruises on her from him, but she learned years ago not to look too closely at her body. It only makes her feel more trapped than she already is.

It all started when she turned eighteen…Kayden claimed it was a birthday gift for her, but Iroha knows better. She knows Kayden has never done anything nice for her for the sake of being nice and there's always a reason behind it. She was trapped with him when he first brought her in to live with him, kicked out by her parents for what he did to her. When Noah was born…she didn't have any way to pay to keep him alive. She was just fifteen…still practically a child herself. But Kayden, he was an adult with a job. He could keep them alive.

Until Iroha was old enough to support them on her own.

She was nearly there…carefully saving up her money and hiding it from Kayden who always comes home too angry before drinking away the night to search through her belongings. But she must not have been carefully enough… The damn bastard must have known she was trying to leave him and wouldn't be able to afford to leave if she had another child.

Finally the five minutes pass, yet Iroha hesitates to look at the pregnancy test, afraid of what it will tell her… Suddenly she's feeling fifteen again, like that naïve girl that fell for Kayden's honeyed words and believed he cared about her. But she is not that girl. She is a grown ass woman who knows how to survive. She's survived this far with Kayden, she will survive whatever the results of this are. And she will figure out a way to get out of here, with either just Noah or both kids. Kayden will not own her if the results of this test are positive, no matter what he thinks.

Iroha bites her lip as she stops her pacing, staring down the stupid little piece of plastic. "It's just an object, it's not going to hurt you," she reassures herself before finally reaching towards it, scolding herself internally when her hand shakes. The test spells it out clearly to her, even adding a little smiley face just to taunt her with the fact that she's pregnant at the hands of an abusive monster.

_Positive._

Iroha lets out a heavy sigh as she slowly sits down on the bathroom floor, not trusting her legs right now. This…is her worst nightmare coming to life. She's done so much to try to stop Kayden from having control of her, to keep him from trapping her here. Yet he did it.

Immediately her mind starts turning, planning out how she is going to get out of this. She'll fight tooth and nail to get both of her children out of this shithole. Kayden already treats Noah horribly, she won't let him do that to another child of hers. _Hers._ Not theirs, and especially not his. This is her baby and she would give her life to keep them safe.

She tries to remember back to when she had Noah – memories she likes to avoid most of the time. She's probably somewhere between one to two months along. Iroha pulls up her shirt, staring down at the flat belly, trying to control it from growing. If she can just hide this from Kayden, she can by some time to get out of here before he knows. She has…maybe two to three months before she can't hide it any longer. Thank God it's winter and she has the excuse of baggy sweater. By time it's warm out, she'll be long gone from Kayden.

"Where's your mother?"

Iroha quickly looks up at the sound of Kayden's muffled voice, not expecting him to be home yet. "Fuck," she mutters under her breath as she picks up the pregnancy test, trying to find somewhere to put it until she can get rid of it, somewhere he won't find it. She _cannot_ let him find out. But as his footsteps approach the bathroom door, Iroha quickly tucks it into the back waistband of her pants and pulls down her sweater over it just as she hears Kayden stop in front of the bathroom door.

"Iroha?" Kayden asks, his tone immediately telling her that his mad at her for who knows what reason, or maybe even for no reason.

Iroha takes a moment to compose herself, putting on the mask she wears around him, before opening up the bathroom door. "Hi babe."

"Is everything alright?" Kayden asks, his eyes filled with a moment of false concern for her, but Iroha learned the truth long ago about him. She's not the young girl who falls for that anymore.

"Yes, I'm fine, please don't worry about me" Iroha tells him quickly, putting on her best smile as she avoids meeting his gaze for too long at a time. "Just last night's dinner not agreeing with my stomach."

"It better be just that and not something you'll give me," Kayden tells her as he steps into the bathroom, closer to her and making her instinctively take a step back from him. But Kayden quickly reaches out to her, putting his arms around her waist. "You know I can't take off time from work, not when I have to support you and - what's this?" Kayden asks as his hands freeze up on her back and Iroha curses inside her head, knowing he found the test. Fuck, she didn't hide it well enough and now he's going to know…and she has to do damage control to stop him from getting angry about her hiding it.

"I was planning on surprising you about it," Iroha quickly lies as Kayden pulls the pregnancy test out from where it's tucked into the waistband of her pants, afraid of him growing angry at her keeping it from him. Kayden starts to stare down at the results and Iroha quickly continues, "I was going to surprise you and Noah at dinner time with the news that he's going to be a big brother. But then you walked in early before I had time to even plan the surprise!"

Iroha silently urges Kayden to accept this excuse, fearing what he'll do if he thinks that she was keeping it from her. Hell, even if he believes her, he'll still probably lash out at her in some way. "You're pregnant?" Kayden asks slowly and Iroha obediently nods her head, knowing it's the response he'll expect.

"I am," Iroha confirms and inside she's screaming at herself for having to tell him this information. Fuck, she was supposed to keep this a secret until she was long gone from here.

"Good," Kayden answers her, sending a chill down her spine. She knew it. She damn well knew it that he was trying to keep her with him by bringing another child into it. "You better give me another boy."

"That part is up to you," Iroha says with a small laugh, trying to joke herself out of the situation. But she can see right away that he doesn't appreciate the joking, so she puts her hand on her stomach, "I can feel it, it's a boy."

It's complete bullshit, but then again, most of what she tells him is bullshit. Bullshit he usually believes.

"I should have known this. I could see a glow about you," Kayden tells her as he picks up a bit of her hair, running it through his fingers gently before suddenly grabbing onto her hair and pulling her head back, forcing her to look up at him. Iroha bites her lip, stopping herself from crying out at the pain, but the lack of response from her seems to just further fuel him, making him tug on her hair harder and strain her neck. He leans in closer to her and she wants to cringe away from his hot breath on her cheek, but she stays still, keeping up the image of his perfect submissive partner. "Our children deserve to have united parents. We'll get married and you'll raise my children."

"B-but what about the Reaping?" Iroha asks, scrambling for any sort of reason to prolong the wedding, terrified of being legally bound to him. If that happens…he'll get the children taken away from her, she just knows it. "I know the odds are low – thanks to you supporting me and keeping me from taking tesserae… But it's not impossible. I just…" Iroha lets out a dramatic sigh, even willing her eyes to start watering a bit. "I just don't want you to lose your wife in case the worse happens to me."

Kayden thinks about this for a long minute, still holding Iroha in place by her hair, and she stays absolutely still…waiting and waiting, silently hoping he won't realize that Noah would be his for sure if they were to get married and the worst happened and she was reaped. Maybe she should take out tesserae to increase her odds of being picked if she can't get out, anything to get away from him. Finally, Kayden nods his head and the tension in Iroha's shoulders relax, but not for very long. "Fine, I can wait until after the Reaping. We'll go the next day to the Justice Building and get married. Iroha Ward, sounds much better than Iroha Kinoshita."

Kayden leans down to give her a kiss on the cheek and Iroha feels nothing but disgust inside at his touch, taking that small moment to let her anger show on her face. When he pulls back, she's all smiles, his ever submissive partner. "It sure does, babe. Now how about I get started on dinner? I just need to wash up for a moment."

"Don't take too long, I'm starving," Kayden tells her, giving one last pull on her hair to remind her of what he'll do if she takes too long. And she won't…if she's in the bathroom too long, he'll lash out at Noah instead, and she'll take any abuse from Kayden to keep Noah from it.

Iroha gives him a pleasant smile before he lets go of her and steps out of the bathroom, leaving the door open. She gently shuts it and leans her head against the door for a moment, taking a few shaking breaths as she tries to put herself together. Getting trapped here by being Kayden's wife…that's her worst nightmare, worse than the fear of the Games that every District child has.

Six months to get out of this hell hole while Kayden will be doing everything to stop her from leaving him with the children…

_Fuck._

* * *

_Belinda 'Bee' Morvay-Maxwell, Escort for District Six_

Bee had thought they were well into retirement, but, well…when asked to come back to be an escort, they couldn't exactly say no. There was no other District for them than District Six with the people they consider their second family. And their little girl is all grown up now and they can handle being away from her for a few weeks at a time. She's so grown up now that her best friend is even part of the escorting team – with a little bit of help from Bee writing a letter of recommendation. Bee hopes everything went well for Iris, but they just didn't have enough time to call her since her Reaping is right before Bee's.

Despite the familiarity of it all, Bee still gets a little bit of nervousness as they head out onto the stage, making their hiccups flare up. They try to keep it covered up, not wanting Sonja and Mari to worry about them, but one slips out right when they stop at the microphone, sounding throughout the District. "Excuse me," Bee says quickly, feeling their cheeks heating up a little in embarrassment. Why are they nervous? They've done this for so many years! "Hello, District Si – _hiccup_ – Six! District Six! Hello District Six, good to be…back…here…" Bee trails off with another hiccup, realizing they are just starting to ramble to cover up the unexpected nervousness.

Bee takes a glance back at the victors, finding Dampero subtly giving them a thumbs up of encouragement, so Bee takes a deep breath – followed by another hiccup – and adjusts the new jacket that Dampero gifted them, a weird tradition they have. But tradition brings comfort to them, letting them get back into the Reaping. "Right, well, I am Bee Morvay-Maxwell, back in District Six and it is time to pick some names."

Bee makes their way to the first glass ball of names, a little skip in their step but not too much, knowing even in flats they can be a bit clumsy. Bee looks over all the slips in the bowl for a moment, trying to get some sort of feeling about who to pick, before finally reaching in and choosing. They make their way back slower, feeling the weight of what they're about to do, more than when they were young, before they had a child born in the Districts. "Alright, the first name is Iroha Kinoshita."

Bee waits on the stage for the girl to step out from the crowd, and they can't control their gasp of surprise when they see the girl who leaves the front section. Iroha wears a loose fitting blue dress and sweatpants under it, but it doesn't do anything to hide her bulging belly. Bee covers their mouth with their hand, trying to hide any reaction they're feeling at the sight of the expectant mother, knowing too well what it is like to be a parent. Iroha does her best to put on a smile as she takes the stage, barely meeting Bee's eyes, but her nervousness shines through.

Bee begins frowning when Iroha stops next to them, taking a glance back at the victors to try and figure out what they should do. But the looks of concern on their faces do nothing to help them, so they clear their throat as they face the crowd again. "Are there any…volunteers for Iroha?"

Bee waits and waits, hoping someone will be brave enough to step forward to take the place of the expecting mother, yet no one does. Bee puts a hand on her shoulder, but quickly removes it when Iroha flinches away at their touch. "We'll get you through this."

Iroha doesn't look too convinced by this and Bee distracts themself from her by going to pick the second name. They can only hope the second tribute won't cause such a terrible pit to form in their stomach like Iroha did…

"And the second tribute is…Dresden Kahlo," Bee tells the crowd softly, wanting to be off the stage already. The boy steps out from the seventeen year old group, very stoic as he keeps his shoulders back and makes his way up to the stage, standing out from the different clothing he wears – different in both style and obvious wealth. He takes the stage without saying anything to Bee or Iroha, his gaze out of focus and clearly deep in his thoughts, so Bee turns to face the crowd instead, "And are there any volunteers for Dresden?"

As is typical in Six, no one volunteers for Dresden. Bee takes a look at their two tributes, slowly starting to feel overwhelmed at the task that is ahead of them, and also a worried mess at the idea of an expecting parent being one of their tributes. "Very well, District Six…your tributes are Iroha Kinoshita and Dresden Kahlo."

As Bee gestures the tributes towards the building, Dampero gets up and makes his way over to them, dropping his voice into a whisper to not be overheard by the tributes. "We need to do everything to help her and that child," he tells them and Bee notices Iroha's pace slowing as she barely turns her head to listen to them.

Bee nods their head, glad to see they're on the same page like usual, but feeling as if he might have other reasons for his concern. After all, he's not a parent like Bee… "I agree…more than you know."

* * *

**WE'RE FINALLY DONE WITH INTROS! Finally! Very big thank yous to 66samvr, House Elf Liberation Front, and CelticGames4 for patiently waiting this long to see Iroha, Dresden, and Bee respectively! Seriously, thank you for being patient with me as I slowly got through all of the intros, I greatly appreciate it!**

**I've been so excited to get through the intros so we can get to the fun stuff in the pre-Games and start seeing this group of tributes interact with each other! Especially since at the time of writing this A/N, I have written through the private sessions and so I have quite a few interactions and alliances written out already. But I would still like to hear who you are hoping interacts! Who knows, perhaps it will influence so arena events/run ins.**

**RQ #11:** Which of the featured tributes is your favorite based on the intros? (It's okay to say your own, just say at least one other that isn't yours lol XD)

**Also right now the SYOT Alliance forum is hosting Aprilooza, a fun daily event for the month of April to build up the community! I hope you check it out and join in :)**

**Alright I will see you in a week with the Reaping Recap chapter! It should be a good refresher of all of the tributes while also revealing some additional information about them!**


	16. Reaping Recap

**Chapter 12:**

_Seraphim Lukianas, Gamemaker Intern_

Seraphim looks around with awe as they walk through the hallways of the Presidential Manor, half-tempted to reach out and feel the lavish velvet drapes hanging, but having restraint, afraid of stepping out of line and doing something wrong. He hovers back, letting Lisia lead the way confidently through the hallways, having done this many times before, tablet in hand filled with information to relay to the President.

And what information they have. Lisia has been smug all afternoon after the Reapings finished and the Gamemakers kept bringing her more information about the tributes for her final Hunger Games. Kept commenting on how they would fit in with her arena – in the midst of frantically making sure all the puzzle pieces were falling into place. Seraphim got a headache just watching all the chaos happening in the Games Headquarters, and this was just _Reaping Day_. He doesn't know how Lisia does this or how she expects him to do this…

"Feeling okay, kid?" Lisia asks him, slowing as they start to approach a set of double doors with guards stationed on either side.

Lisia glances over at Seraphim and he quickly shakes his head, nervously taking a sip of the coffee he brought with him, his hand shaking the whole time. "I'm terrified."

Lisia laughs at this statement and comes to a stop, giving Seraphim a pat on the shoulder, "That's normal, but no need for it. President Xavier is a good man. So don't be afraid to speak up during the conversation. Oh and get rid of that coffee."

"Right," Seraphim agrees quickly before looking around for somewhere to get rid of the coffee cup as Lisia continues walking ahead. He quickly follows her and awkwardly passes the coffee cup to one of the guards outside the door. "Uh…thanks?"

Lisia is already knocking on the door and a voice calls out for them to enter. She opens the door and Seraphim discretely wipes his sweating palms on his pants as he follows her in to the President's office. He stands up to greet them, smiling at both of them and only easing a small part of Seraphim's nerves. "Welcome back, Lisia. And this must be Seraphim?"

"Y-yes, sir," Seraphim answers right away and takes President Xavier's hand when he offers it. "Honor to meet you, sir."

President Xavier lets out a chuckle at this, making Seraphim give Lisia a nervous look. "No need to be so formal. Please, sit," the President gestures to the chairs as he sits himself. "Tea?"

"Yes, please," Seraphim answers immediately before wondering why he agreed to that as someone steps forward and quickly pours him tea. Lisia eyes him and raises an eyebrow as he takes a sip, controlling his urge to cringe at the taste. It's just…not for him, but who is he to say no to the President? "Excellent tea, sir."

"No thank you," Lisia says pointedly as Seraphim watches the President, almost positive he knows Seraphim hates the tea and is…amused? "So…last time doing this."

"Indeed," President Xavier answers her, beginning to frown. "I've enjoyed our chats with you as Head Gamemaker. I suppose all things must end eventually, but first we have one more Games for you. I'm sure your crazy plans are all coming together?"

"They sure are," Lisia confirms, smug look of pride on her face. "And this group of tributes…they'll fit in very nicely with my plans."

"Then let's get started," President Xavier leans back in his chair and gestures to Lisia, letting her take over.

"I'll go over some of the ones that we need to address first," Lisia says as she starts typing away on her tablet before bringing up a few images on the display set on the desk. "Take your choice of who to discuss first: the convicted murderer, pregnant woman, or the one working on a Capitol research project?"

President Xavier just takes a look at the three pictures for a moment before letting out a sigh, "The convicted murderer, please."

"Rodrick Tang, District One," Lisia says as she makes his picture larger to focus on. "Now he's both a rogue volunteer while also being the original chosen volunteer."

"So what happened?" President Xavier asks her when Lisia pauses to build up the drama, a thing Seraphim has started to pick up on her doing.

"Murder, obvious," Lisia says as she pulls up the crime report. "He confessed to the murder of his neighbor, saying he was practicing for the Games to ensure he could kill in the arena. He cracked until the pressure when Peacekeepers stopped by for a tip about screaming and had a story for them."

President Xavier taps his fingers on the desk as he stares at the picture of Rodrick, "Now what to do with him?"

"That's what I was going to ask you, sir," Lisia tells him, bringing his attention back to her. "If you don't want him to be allowed to win, just give the word. If you do, I'll let him have a fair shot."

President Xavier seems to debate this for a while before finally giving his answer, "Let's see how the Capitol reacts to him and if he seems to repent what he did. I'm willing to give him a shot, but he certainly has to earn it. Now let's see the researcher."

"Understood," Lisia says as she brings removes Rodrick's picture and brings up Sissel's. "Sissel Wetherburn, District Ten. Helps run the Wetherburn Avian Sanctuary and Rehabilitation Center, but more importantly, our records indicate his involvement with some…Thunder Initiative?"

"Yes, I'm familiar with it," President Xavier tells them, but chooses not to reveal what that means. "From my understanding, it's still ongoing so why was he reaped?"

"I guess just the luck of the draw?" Lisia answers and Seraphim glances over in time to see a look of concern briefly pass over her face before she composes herself. "What would you like us to do with him?"

"I'll arrange for a meeting with the team here before he enters the arena for a full debriefing. He has valuable information for the Capitol that I do not want to see get lost. And…well," President Xavier says before gesturing to the last picture up, "I take it she's the pregnant woman?"

Lisia rolls with the topic change, clearly used to it, but Seraphim is still curious and wanting to know more about Sissel. "Iroha Kinoshita, District Six. Currently eight months pregnant with her second child, first one was born when she fifteen. Seems to be the same father, so I guess I have not so much a question, but a suggestion… She should have that baby before the arena to avoid any controversy from the Capitol crowd."

President Xavier debates for a few seconds before nodding his head. "Yes, I agree. Let's bring her in after the private sessions so she has some time to recover before the arena. If she wins, the child will obviously go into her custody but if not, the father can have custody."

"Very well," Lisia nods her head before pulling up four new pictures, ones that Seraphim is looking forward to seeing in person given his school history. "Next we have the ones with curious medical conditions. I'll just go in District order. First, Sasha Kolster, District Three. She…well, I'll let Seraphim go over this group."

"M-me?" Seraphim asks nervously and Lisia nods her head, gesturing to him as the President focuses on him.

"You are a former med student, after all," Lisia says as she passes him the tablet before she leans back in her chair, watching him carefully.

Seraphim clears his throat as he looks over Sasha's info and stares down at the tablet as he talks about her. "Sasha is a rare case of childhood stroke. Like most, she was diagnosed late and a lot of the damage that could have been reversed if diagnosed early was already done. She's been in physical therapy and seems to be making progress, but still requires a cane to walk."

"Let her have her cane," President Xavier tells them, looking to Lisia, who nods her head in confirmation. "Please, continue."

"Well speaking of canes," Seraphim gives a nervous chuckle as he tries to make Artem's picture larger. "Artem Nobyl, District Five. His birth mother was exposed to radiation during her pregnancy from an accident in one of the nuclear power plants and he was born with several physical disabilities. However, he seems to have no issue with daily life and getting around, but he does also use a cane."

"Is it just physical disabilities?" President Xavier asks and Seraphim nods his head, prompting a sigh from him. "It's sad to see accidents like that happen, but it's a risk that's always present. There's always that risk of human error. But I'm getting off track. Next?"

"Aberforth Barringer, District Four," Seraphim tells him and nods his head when the President raises an eyebrow in surprise. "Yes, he is a volunteer. He was in the running to be the chosen volunteer for years until a training accident at 16 badly injured him and he's been recovering ever since and still requires leg braces. He's been working on the docks and his best friend was supposed to volunteer, but stepped aside for Aberforth."

"I'm sure he's popular with the victors," President Xavier says quietly to himself, shaking his head a little bit. He clears his throat before speaking up louder to both of them. "Again, let all of them have the necessary equipment they need to give them equal – or close to equal – odds to the rest of the tributes. Does the last one have a similar medical need?"

"No," Seraphim answers, bringing up the final picture of his group. "Betula Washington, District Seven. They actually wanted to go into the Games…for what might be a similar reason to Jarle. They were diagnosed with cancer one year ago but it's unknown if they want to go in to fight or to die…"

"I guess we will find out," President Xavier says as Seraphim passes the tablet back to Lisia, giving her a nervous look and unsure if he did a good job. When she gives him a brief, but reassuring smile, his shoulders relax a bit. "The next group?"

"There's a few with some interesting things to note," Lisia pulls up the next group of four tributes. "Kaz Aberdeen is here mostly to recognize District Two being more inclusive than usual years and not just going for the biggest and strongest. He is strong, no doubt, but the main thing I want to point out is that he is autistic, so something to be aware of with the Capitol events."

"Yes, if he needs anything during that time, provide it," President Xavier comments.

"Then there's these three girls," Lisia points at the remaining pictures. "All very interesting home lives. Margaery Fox, District Five, was hard to dig up info on her family as they have done a good job avoiding notice. But with a deep enough dive after learning her father's job as a 'psychic', yeah we found that all of them seem to have interactions with the Peacekeepers but were never confirmed."

"Keep an eye on her," President Xavier tells her, "And tell the District Five team to also keep an eye on her."

"Then we have Asha Kolster, District Nine," Lisia continues, bringing up her picture. "Now Asha on the surface lives a very average life. But we looked a little closer and found out she works as a dominatrix."

Seraphim stays quiet, even though he wants to question what a dominatrix even is, but from the look on Lisia's face, this should be information they both know. President Xavier simply takes a sip of his tea with his eyebrow raised slightly, before clearing his throat, "Interesting."

"More interesting is Lelantos volunteering to mentor her, given their history at that place and what it nearly did to their life," Lisia adds with a shrug. "So she'll be an interesting one to watch. Now the last in this group, Jendaya Barrett, District Eleven… Married at 17 from poor to quite wealthy, but then her husband died about three months ago. And medical reports show that shortly after that, she miscarried a very early pregnancy."

"Anything suspicious about his death?" President Xavier asks her curiously.

"Ruled as alcohol poisoning," Lisia says with a shrug. "Kane ran a winery so not too hard to believe. But I suppose we'll get the truth soon enough."

"Indeed," President Xavier nods his head, well aware of what Lisia has planned for the private sessions, having needed his approval to get the unconventional materials. "That is half?"

"Yes, halfway through," Lisia nods her head as she pulls up four more pictures. "We just have these four with bad home lives to note and then the rest are the ones that seem rather normal, on paper, at least. First up, Marian Lilley, District Two. She's been living at the training center dorms for the last few months after her family kicked her out for being selected."

"In District Two?" President Xavier asks in disbelief, needing Lisia to nod her head in confirmation. "Why? That's so unusual."

"Marian had no problem telling the trainers what happened, kind of went off in her report," Lisia says with a chuckle, looking a bit proud at Marian for standing up. "Let's see…she called them 'misogynistic and homophobic' people, but she used a much more vulgar word instead of people."

President Xavier sighs at this, "Seems like District Two still has a lot of progress to make. But I'm glad the victors are being very inclusive with their volunteers. And seem to be the only ones that had their actual chosen volunteers this year."

"Should be an interesting pack this year," Lisia tells him and Seraphim nods his head in agreement. "Now we have Samis McCree, District Three. He's been working ever since he was 14 to support his mother who was diagnosed with early dementia a few years prior. His father walked out on them, so he's been the main one caring for her."

"It's a pity, always makes you sad seeing families like that," President Xavier says softly before taking a sip of tea.

"The other two aren't that much better," Lisia says before continuing on, "Dresden Kahlo, District Six. Comes from a very wealthy family running a luxury fashion store for traditional clothes. He gets good grades and his sister has perfect dance performances, yet both have come to school with bruises and black eyes on occasion that they give flimsy reasons for – more often Dresden than his sister. And then Gwenith…well the girl volunteered, seemingly in a moment of blind anger, but her appearance gives a good understanding of why…" Lisia pulls up a picture from the Reaping, showing the girl with a fresh split lip and black eye swollen shut, along with other injuries – some fresh and some looking several days old. "Her mother has been missing for over a year and school reports show her missing in greater frequency and also some times showing up under the influence."

President Xavier stays silent for a minute, sipping his tea and keeping his face as emotionless as possible. He finally sets down his tea cup and folds his hands on the desk in front of him. "We'll look into both of those families. And we'll make sure we get information from both of them."

"Agreed," Lisia says before clearing the pictures. She pauses for a moment, seemingly collecting herself before going over the remaining tributes. "Only seven more tributes to go through and thankfully this is the group that seems to be average citizens. Should be easy to get through these."

"Please just go through all of them and I will interrupt with any comments if I have them," President Xavier tells her, gesturing at her to begin.

"Alright first up, Nativity Nadal, District One," Lisia begins, pointing at the girl. "She was the chosen volunteer and has had a very supportive family for years that has encouraged her in everything. She legally changed her name before her first Reaping. Since she was the chosen volunteer, I'm curious with her how she'll work with Rodrick and will be keeping a close eye on them."

Lisia switches the picture to the last of the careers to discuss today. "Filling out the career Districts is Orin Rensch, District Four. Ze seem to have been relatively unimpressive over the years in the training center and so when ze were selected as the volunteer, it surprised people a bit. Most people know zim as the child of Drs. Rensch, two dentists running a clinic together in Four. Like Nativity, ze were the chosen volunteer."

"Next we have Pascal Flores, District Seven…" Lisia says, and Seraphim picks up the hesitation in her voice as she switches to the image of the young boy from Seven. "There wasn't much information on him in the system, aside from who his mother is – seems like the father isn't in the picture – and his legal name change a few months ago. He's homeschooled, so we don't know much on his personality…"

President Xavier gives Lisia a long look, but stays quiet and nods his head for her to continue on, leaving Seraphim confused on what's going on with Pascal.

"Next is Grey Pendleton, District Eight," Lisia continues on, pulling up the picture of the young man. "All school reports show that he's a respectful young man that is always willing to help out. However, he did volunteer, which we don't exactly know the reasoning yet. But doesn't seem to be anything malicious."

"Let me know what you find out."

Lisia nods her head before moving on, "Laine Lawson, District Nine. Comes from a lower class family, the second oldest of four children. All of them have had to drop out of school to work and support the family, but reports before that happened indicated that Laine is a hardworking boy, but did have a tendency to day dream a bit too much in school."

"Then there is Ally Ishmael, District Ten," Lisia brings up the picture of the last girl. "Obviously you'll notice the hijab she wears and her family seems to follow traditions of some old cultures. School reports show that Ally is quite vocal about her opinions and stands up for what she believes in – but not in a disruptive way. She's done well in school and her teachers all comment on how she enjoys it."

"And finally, Grand Gallitan-Montgomery, District Eleven," Lisia lets out a sigh of relief at reaching the last tribute to cover today. "Comes from a fairly average family in Eleven. School reports have noted that there seems to be periods of time when he is quick and willing to do everything asked of him, while other times he has such low energy and is unable to do much work… Seraphim has suggested a test when he's here to see if there's something undiagnosed there. But other than that, seems to be a good boy that doesn't cause any disruptions in class."

"Go ahead and run the test," President Xavier authorizes, nodding his head. "And any other medical tests and assessments you see fit for any of them. Just bring the information to me and we'll decide how to it should be passed along to the tributes. I don't think I have any additional questions on this group, just the things I need to follow up on from what we discussed. Do you have anything else?"

"Actually… Can I have a moment with you to discuss one of the tributes alone, President?" Lisia asks, surprising Seraphim when he hears the uncharacteristic nervousness in her voice.

"Of course," President Xavier answers right away, fixing her with a look of concern before turning his attention to Seraphim and smiling. "Seraphim, it was a pleasure to meet you and I look forward to future meetings."

"It was an honor, sir," Seraphim tells him as he stands up, smiling nervously and giving an awkward wave goodbye as he heads out of the room, glancing back over his shoulder at Lisia as the guards shut the door behind him. The one hands him back his now cold coffee and Seraphim just takes it, absentmindedly sipping it as he wonders what Lisia could possibly be telling the President right now about one of their tributes – or how long she'll be in there.

Seraphim starts pacing the hallway near the door, looking at the pictures and sculptures present, before stopping in front of a large frame filled with small portraits of all of the victors since the Second Rebellion and with space for many future victors. Some he spots right away – his favorites – most from recent years. Delmar, of course, considering he got to shadow the doctors treating him. Then Astrid, who surprised all of them. Then there's the surprising career that Seraphim rooted for, even if the picture of attractive Zephyr makes him start flushing.

Seraphim quickly turns away from the picture of the career victor, instead focusing on the empty spot marked '137th', his mind running wild with the possibilities of who it might be. Everything feels different now that he has this inside perspective of the tributes and knows such intimate details about their lives. They feel so…so much more real to him and he doesn't know who he would like to see win. Who would he be rooting for if he was at home watching with his mom? Probably one of the underdogs – which there are plenty of this year. Or maybe he would have another rare year of rooting for a career.

"Seraphim?"

The young man jumps at the sound of his name and looks over at Lisia as she leaves the President's office, heading his way. She stops next to him to stare at the victor portraits, smiling faintly as she runs a finger over the pictures of the ones she has been Head Gamemaker for, starting with Jory Foran. "These victors are my biggest pride, my life accomplishments…"

"Do you have a favorite, ma'am?" Seraphim asks her curiously, watching her face as she skims over her victors.

Without hesitation, Lisia puts her finger on the picture of the Quell victor, which really shouldn't have been a surprise. "Glacia, of course, even if she's still not too fond of me for making her prove herself. That Quell was my greatest achievement, even if it was hell to execute it. If you get to be the Head Gamemaker for the next Quell…well good luck and I hope you find some way to top that."

"I don't think that's possible," Seraphim answers her honestly, not having the slightest idea what he would even do for a Quell. "No one is going to top what you've done."

Lisia laughs at this and shakes her head at him, "Today's lesson, Seraphim: someone can always do your job better than you and it's all about staying in the favor of that man we just talked to."

"Noted," Seraphim answers with a nod of his head. "So…now what?"

"Now we prepare for the tributes to arrive in the Capitol. We have a show to put on."

* * *

**A short little Reaping Recap to refresh you on the tributes and also reveal some new information about them! And of course we also get another look at our Capitolites and what is happening with Seraphim and Lisia. Don't worry, we're going to see plenty more from the Gamemaker side because Lisia has quite the plans for this arena. **

**Next two chapters will be looking at each featured tribute on the train rides, so we'll start to see the non-featured tributes too! And then we'll be officially in the Capitol and get to some of my favorite parts to write! I can't wait for everyone to see who interacts with who and what alliances there are. But that will be a RQ later so I will wait for speculation there lol.**

**RQ #12: **What new piece of information surprised you the most about the tributes?

**Well that's all I have to say! Of course, I always love to hear your thoughts on the story, especially this crazy group of tributes we have! See you next Monday!**


	17. Train Rides Part 1

**Chapter 13:**

_Rodrick Tang, 18, District One_

To say the train is tense would be a huge understatement. Rodrick can't stop rubbing his now free wrists as the team sits around the dining table in silence, all because he volunteered when he wasn't supposed to. But what was he supposed to do? Rot in jail for the rest of his life? No, he isn't going to do that. He's already let down his mother enough by failing his initial test of murder. He wasn't going to let his last chance to redeem himself pass by without at least _trying_ to volunteer or keep living in the guilt that was chewing away at him. If he dies in the arena, at least he is dying as a free man and not rotting away in a jail cell. It was kind of just luck that Thetis actually agreed to him being the volunteer.

But now that he's here, he knows what must be done.

"Alright can you just get out whatever you have to say about me being here so we can move on and actually start preparing for these Games?" Rodrick finally speaks up, drawing the attention of the mentors and Tiv over to him right away. When no one starts talking right away, he crosses his arms and leans back in his chair, "So?"

Tiv is the first one to speak up, "That was ballsy as fuck."

"It was dumb," Emilio adds after that and finally the group is starting to talk about this. "You could have gotten in serious trouble if Thetis didn't agree to you being the volunteer."

"So?" Rodrick says with a shrug. "I was already in prison for life, what's the worst they could have done to me?" They both fall silent at this and Rodrick knows he made his point, so he turns to his mentor who has stayed quiet this whole time. "Well? Are you going to criticize your tribute who has already proven that he is capable of killing before the Games?"

Dracana starts nervously picking at her nails for a minute before finally meeting Rodrick's gaze and sighing at him. "No because I know what it's like to have a goal and be willing to do anything to get it. I hate to break it to you, but…reaching that goal probably won't make you feel better."

"I doubt that," Rodrick answers her before shrugging at the group. "Now that we have gotten that out of the way, I'll be honest with you all: I'm here to win, no matter what. I don't really want to work with the career pack but I know it's necessary for winning, so I will. You and me," Rodrick points between himself and Tiv, "We're not going to be friends."

Tiv laughs at this as she pulls her hair to the side and starts braiding it, "I'm not here to be your friend, love. I'm here to win, so I have no problem with keeping you at an arm's length away."

Dracana clears her throat and the two tributes look over at her, "I think you should be more focused on making sure Two and Four take you into the pack. They…don't normally take too kindly to tributes going rogue."

"Which you are the expert on," Rodrick responds to her, watching her start to frown at this. "Don't worry, I'll be a good career from now on and won't go killing the others in the bloodbath."

"That would be appreciated, thank you very much," Tiv says with a scoff. She finishes her braid and tosses it back over her shoulder before leaning forward, folding her well-manicured hands on the table. "Look, I'll vouch for you to be in the pack, but only to a certain extent. If it comes down to me being in the pack or not, I'll choose myself over you any day."

"That's fair and I would do the same, so I respect that," Rodrick answers and Tiv nods her head and gives him a thumbs up. He turns his attention over to his mentor, finding her looking rather displeased about being here. "I'll get into the career pack, don't worry. I have a plan for training to show them that they want me. Besides, if they're going to take the broken one from Four, they would be real stupid to not take someone who has proven they will kill."

"That's exactly why they might not want you to join," Dracana says slowly and Rodrick stares at her, not having thought about that yet. "Would you want to be with someone who has shown they can kill before stepping foot in the arena? Someone who has demonstrated they will kill without much remorse? Someone who is one of their biggest competition towards winning?"

"I don't really want to ally with any of the other career Districts in the first place," Rodrick answers with a shrug. "I'm only going to join them so they don't immediately target me like they would if I was on my own."

"I think we need to consider that being a possibility," Dracana tells him.

Rodrick stares at her for a moment in a blank look before shaking his head at her. "You're supposedly my mentor," he starts slowly and Dracana nods her head in agreement. "Then start mentoring. We have how much time on this train? Let's get a strategy to make sure that District One is fully part of the career pack this year so I can win."

Tiv laughs at this and Rodrick gives her a cold look. "Sorry bud, you're not winning over me."

"We can argue later over which of you will win," Emilio interrupts before Rodrick can tell Tiv just how wrong she is and there's no chance she'll win. The two tributes look at the more experienced mentor, waiting for him to continue. "But Rodrick is right-"

"I know I am," Rodrick interrupts and Emilio gives him a look to shut up.

"Anyways," Emilio says sarcastically before continuing, "We need to make sure One is established in the career pack. If we don't get Rodrick in the pack, they'll target him first and then Tiv because they'll make some sort of argument that you'll betray them for killing your District partner, regardless if that's the case or not. So from now on, we put Rodrick's past in the past and make sure we get a victor for District One. Are we clear?"

"Yes, we are," Tiv answers him right away.

Rodrick nods his head, "Finally we're doing something worthwhile."

* * *

_Marian Lilley, 18, District Two_

"Hmph, I'm glad I'm not in One or Four," Flannery says with her arms crossed as they sit on the couches surrounding the screen, finishing up watching the recap of the Reapings. "What a mess."

"It sure is," Marian agrees with her, the high of finally volunteering and sticking it to her asshole parents slowly starting to fade and put her in reality of the Games, placed on a fast track by One and Four's interesting situation this year. "But what is it going to mean for the pack?"

"We'll still have the pack," Kaz tells her with a nod of his head, but Marian isn't too sure about that. She doesn't want to be allies with a criminal if the Capitol is going to target him, and she's really not sure that Abel won't be more of a hindrance than help. But, there is some benefit to having both Rodrick and Abel in the pack with her. She can use a scapegoat or two in the arena.

"We'll see what happens in training," Marian answers him, making a slight frown start to form on his face. "They might not even want to be part of the pack considering they're rogue volunteers."

"I'm sure Jory and Zephyr can give some advice on this," Flannery tells the pair before looking around the train compartment, taking note of the obvious lack of mentors in the room. "At least, whenever they decide to join us and do their job," Flannery mutters under her breath, but both Marian and Kaz still clearly hear her.

Marian shrugs at the escort, a mix of amusement and annoyance starting to build in her towards their mentors. If they were just going to go off and do whatever instead of mentoring them, why are they wasting Marian's time? She could have had Kat or Viola or even Roxanne mentoring her instead and they wouldn't have been doing this. But does she really need them? She has the skills to get through the arena. Kat wouldn't have chosen her if she couldn't win.

So why does she have to sit around waiting for men to tell her what to do? If she wanted that, she could have just stayed home in Two and been an obedient daughter to her misogynistic family.

"Flannery, you've been escorting for District Two for many years," Marian speaks up, watching the escort sit up with pride and also a small mix of concern over her age getting brought up. "Surely you must know some things about mentoring and can give us some advice in the meantime."

"Well, yes, but…" Flannery trails off, torn between the praise of stepping up and sticking with her job description. "No, we should let Jory and Zephyr handle it, but I'm done waiting for them," Flannery says as she slaps her hands on the armrests of her chair before standing up and storming out of the room on a mission to find the missing mentors.

"What do you think they're doing?" Marian asks Kaz, trying to get him to open up some more since he hasn't seemed to want to talk to her that much aside from very blunt formal answers since they got on the train. And Marian can respect that but with the mess in the other career Districts, it's more important than ever that they are a unified team.

Kaz thinks about it for a moment, not making very much eye contact with Marian as she waits for his answer. "I don't know, maybe strategizing?"

"Yeah, maybe," Marian answers with a shrug, choosing not to mention the looks she saw them giving each other ever since they got on the train. She doubts they are…_strategizing_. Marian looks around the room, finding herself growing bored waiting for the team to get there. Why should she be wasting her time now? "You know what, we don't need to wait for them to get here to figure out our strategy."

"We don't?" Kaz asks in confusion, meeting her gaze for longer than normal before turning away from her to pick at the velvet chair he sits on, growing uncomfortable with it by the passing second until he stands up and moves to a wooden chair off to the side. Once comfortable again, he looks at Marian for a moment and bites his nails as he thinks over his answer. "But they're our mentors… We should listen to what they have to say."

"I agree wholeheartedly," Marian tells him as she moves to sit closer to him, giving him a reassuring smile. "But when we're in the arena, it will be just us two and the only contact with our mentors will be one way. We need to make sure we're unified and have each other's back."

Kaz nods his head and sits up taller, meeting her gaze as he answers her, "I want to be leader of the career pack."

Marian silently raises one eyebrow at this statement, knowing if it was anyone other than Kaz making the statement, she would cuss them out and argue with them until they agreed that she would be leading the pack. But Kaz…she knows he's coming from a good place in wanting to lead the pack, not wanting to spite her. Yet a part of her deep down is still bitter at the thought of another man leading the pack like it so often happens…

But…the leaders of packs always have a big target on their backs… And Marian does _not_ want that target on her. Sorry, Kaz, but…

Marian smiles at him as she puts out her hand to shake his in agreement, waiting a moment for him to accept it, "Of course, leader. We'll make sure District Two is leading the pack and gets the victor."

And of course when she says that, Marian means she'll be leading behind the scenes to make sure it's _her_ that's the victor.

* * *

_Sasha Kolster, 16, District Three_

Sasha really couldn't stop thinking about how this whole situation is such bullshit. Life really loves to fuck her over. Sure, let's send in the person who has physical disabilities and already suffered a life threatening stroke into the Hunger Games. Let's doom the person who has already survived something that nearly killed her.

And she knows she's doomed. No one is going to want to ally with her. Samis has already made that clear from the start, staying quiet on the train and when he did speak up, making poor jokes that made none of them laugh, until he gave up and let the stress of all of this keep him quiet. At least by him staying quiet, Sasha doesn't have to try to push him away from her so she doesn't bring down both of District Three's shots at victory.

Sasha's accepted that no one is going to want to ally with her. Well, no one that's able-bodied. A small, stupid part of her is hoping maybe there will be two people that won't immediately count her out from being an ally… Two people in similar situations to her. But then the rational part of her brain reminds that part that she can be fine on her own. And one of those people is going to probably be part of the careers…and the other surely doesn't want to be with her.

She'll just be on her damn own and count on herself. Can't get betrayed or bring down allies with her if she doesn't have any allies. If only her mentor would realize this already.

"You both really should consider finding allies," Matla sighs again, pinching the bridge of her nose and shaking her head at the two of them.

Sasha and Samis share a look before Sasha shrugs at her and Samis shakes his head. "I don't think I want to," Samis answers quietly, repeating what he's already told them both. "Alliances lead quickly to getting attached and I don't want that to happen. And sorry, I can't have that happening. I'm the only one caring for my mother…hopefully someone is helping her while I'm gone…"

Samis might not have meant it, but his comment makes Sasha start feeling guilty right away, realizing she's been so wrapped up in her own head and how unfair the situation is that she hasn't thought about her poor parents back home… Why is she always so damn selfish and only thinking about herself?! Her poor mother has sacrificed everything for her, given so much into her recovery, and Sasha is sitting here in a pity party for one. Her mother was in damn hysterics when she said goodbye, yet Sasha's being selfish and only thinking about the negatives.

Sasha shuts her eyes for a moment, trying to put herself back home in Three and picturing the sass her mother would give on a normal day. She needs the annoying comments right now that make her stubbornly try to fight against them. Yet she can't imagine anything, can't force herself into feeling stubborn and make herself motivated to try. It's so hard to do that when she's facing the Hunger Games without being able to physically move like she used to.

"Sasha?" Matla asks her, bringing Sasha's eyes open as she narrows her eyes at the people at the table, silently daring them to question her.

"No one is going to want to ally with someone like me," Sasha answers Matla, knowing no one is that good to ally with someone like her in a death match out of the goodness of their heart. In fact, they're probably already thinking about how she'll be an easy death in the bloodbath. "Don't even try to deny it, you know people are looking at me and thinking I'm someone they could beat if they ran into me in the arena."

"Not everyone," Matla points out and Sasha knows who she's referring to.

"Artem isn't going to be helpful to me. I…" Sasha hesitates, not wanting to sound like a stupid idiot in front of Samis, but then she realizes that she has no reason to feel shame for asking questions. After all, she's gone through a lot more embarrassing situations. And who gives a damn what he thinks when they'll both probably be dead in a few days? "What are the odds that the careers will refuse Aberforth and he'll want to ally with someone like him?"

"You really want to ally with a career?" Samis asks her in disbelief and Sasha gives him a glare.

"Yeah, why not have someone as an ally that knows how to kill?" Sasha questions him. "If you're looking for an ally, you want the strongest one you can find. Doesn't get much stronger than the careers. And maybe he'll find some unity in being with someone like him."

Matla sighs as she leans back in her chair and crosses her arms, before staring up at the ceiling for a minute as she contemplates her response. Sasha's glad she's genuinely considering it, making her feel a little less like a stupid idiot for asking it. "Well," Matla finally says, turning her gaze back to Sasha. "I'd estimate 50-50 chance of them taking him or not. If One wasn't in an equally uncertain situation, I'd say higher chance of them rejecting him, but I'm guessing they'll take both Rodrick and Aberforth to keep their numbers up."

"But there's still a 50% chance they won't," Sasha points out, hating that she can feel her hopes getting up. Every time she lets that happen, she just gets completely crushed.

"If that happens…" Matla shrugs at Sasha, clearly showing she is just speculating at this point. "A rogue career is going to be looking for strong allies, so you'll have to show him you're worthwhile to ally with, a strong and suitable replacement for careers."

Well fuck…that's impossible.

* * *

_Aberforth "Abel" Barringer, 18, District Four_

Abel and Leith both knew that there would be consequences to face from Abel volunteering in his friend's place, but he really didn't expect Okeanas to swear off mentoring at all this year, leaving Muir to step in with Delmar. The walls of the Justice Building weren't thick enough to deafen the angry shouting rant Okeanas had, going off about him.

He'll admit, it hurt some of the things she had to say about him. Yet as he sits on the train, heading to the Capitol to complete the dream he's had his whole life…he can put her comments in the past. It feels so worth it to be sitting here. And even with him volunteering unexpectedly, he still has support. He just is waiting until he can ask Muir alone why she decided to step forward and mentor for him.

The only downside to his rogue volunteering is the crash course of getting to know each other that Abel, Orin, and the mentors have to go through. Leith has told Abel a few things about Orin here and there, things he picked up in training, but Abel doesn't know much about zim. And Orin is proving that ze aren't that willing to open up to Abel and the mentors. At least ze didn't outright refuse an alliance with him, as far as he can tell from zir noncommittal shrug. And Muir and Delmar, well, they know nothing about him aside from his training accident.

"We need to build some sort of narrative for your volunteering," Muir tells him, tapping her chin as she thinks about it. Abel watches her attentively, ready to follow her guidance, but also knowing he will politely voice any disagreements he might have and hopefully they can discuss civilly. Delmar sits by her side, studying her intently and seemingly also learning from her. And Orin…well, ze have sat as far from the group as ze can while still being part of the conversation, clearly content staying separate.

"Can't we tell them the truth?" Abel asks her, already uneasy at just the thought of being dishonest about his reasons. "I've persevered through an injury that could have left me paralyzed and here I am, ready to complete my dream. That should be enough."

Muir contemplates this for a moment, before sighing, "You're right. Sorry, I'm trying to think like Okeanas and what she would do." Muir coughs out a last part, "When she isn't yelling."

"I think you should mentor your way," Delmar offers to her, so supportive of his fellow mentor. "And I'll follow your lead with Orin, right Orin?" Delmar looks to his tribute, who gives another silent shrug.

Muir is clearly uncomfortable at everyone looking to her for guidance, but she doesn't tell them to stop. "Alright, fine," Muir tells them, crossing her arms and resting them on the table in front of her. "You can give the narratives you want, as long as you're not going to cuss out Okeanas on live television for what she has said."

"Of course not," Abel reassures her immediately, frowning a little that she might think he would do that. "That would be completely disrespectful and I…I don't agree with her anger, but I understand why she would feel that way. I took a risk, and I'll prove to her it was worthwhile."

"Good, good," Muir nods her head before turning to his District partner. "Orin? What about you?"

Orin gives another shrug at them, clearly wanting to just keep to zirself. "I'll tell them about how I'm the child of two dentists. There's not much else to me. I know I am capable and that's it."

Muir slowly nods her head, looking like she wants to get zim to say more, but chooses not to push Orin. "Okay, sure, we'll work with that. Just as long as you two work together…"

"We will," Abel answers for them, glancing to Orin to get a slow nod of agreement. He turns back to Muir to reassure his mentor, "I know I'm a rogue volunteer, but I'm not doing it to cause trouble. I'm doing it because my best friend was chosen and knew he wouldn't be able to win and this was my lifelong dream. So here I am, ready to prove myself. I'll gladly work with Orin and the other careers, if they accept me. If not…I'll make do on my own. Wouldn't be the first time I had to work on my own and prove I'm still just as capable as before my accident."

"I'll work with you until it's time to split," Orin adds as ze stand up, letting out a yawn as ze stretch zir arms above zir head. "I'm going to sleep now. You need to talk to him more than me."

"Night Orin," Muir calls out to zim as ze are already heading to the door, not waiting for the group to respond.

Abel watches Orin leave, waiting until the door is just behind zim until he turns to look at Muir. He's waited until they were alone, not sure if it's something he wants Orin knowing…but he has to know. "Muir?" He asks softly, watching his mentor give him a pleasant smile at him mentioning her name, but pain is not quite hidden in her eyes. "Why…why did you step forward to mentor me? Surely Okeanas isn't happy with you for that."

"No, she isn't, but she'll deal with it," Muir answers with a heavy sigh. She starts fiddling with her glass on the table, delaying giving him an answer. "The honest answer is…well, you're obviously adopted."

Abel gives her a confused look at this, knowing it's not something that he goes around advertising to the world, but maybe she knows from the training records. "Yes I am… What about it?"

Muir meets his gaze, giving him a sad smile. "Stel and I foster kids all the time. Usually babies so the kids don't get upset when they are adopted and leave a victor's house. And nearly 18 years ago, we fostered a pair of twin babies."

"Oh," Abel says softly, putting it all together right away. "My mothers never told us about what happened after our biological parents deaths and before we were adopted…" Abel reaches into his pocket and pulls out his biological father's monogrammed handkerchief, watching her face as she recognizes it.

"Yeah…" Muir says quietly, trying to hide her hurt at this situation. "So when you volunteered and Okeanas refused to help you…I knew I needed to step in again."

"Thank you, ma'am," Abel tells her, feeling content at knowing this little bit of his history. And with it…more resolution to do this properly, to make sure he wins. "I'm not going to let you down."

* * *

_Artem Nobyl, 14, District Five_

Artem feels awful as he watches Letha fret about, trying to do whatever she can to help him out. She's just…so kind and he doesn't deserve it. He doesn't deserve someone treating him like this, someone who doesn't know him and is probably doing it just because she's obligated to do so as his mentor. And Iris is just the same, holding onto Letha's baby for her and cooing at him, looking so happy to be holding baby Leandro, all so Letha can have a moment to do her job. Letha should be paying attention to her baby, not him…

He just can't believe any of them are being genuine. Not when he's spent the last few months surrounded by people that act friendly to his face and then turn around and treat him like shit. And she's doing all this while she has a baby with her? No, she shouldn't be wasting her time on him and just focus on her baby. Or better yet, on Margaery since she might actually give District Five a chance at winning.

"Here we go," Letha says cheerfully as she sets down two mugs of hot chocolate in front of Artem and Margaery, but Artem makes no move to take it. He just…cannot bring himself to feel much about this situation, still just numb from being chosen to enter the Games. It's hard to feel anything but numb when facing what surely must be his guaranteed death. He's not fooling himself. He's a crippled freak who no one is going to want to be allies with. Because why would they be allies with someone crippled like him?

"Thank you," Margaery tells Letha before sipping her hot chocolate, making Artem looking bad without intending to just by taking the drink and giving Letha a friendly smile.

Artem starts to frown as he stares down at his drink, hating the feeling of obligation building in him to keep up the act he's built around his fathers, the act that he's okay and hasn't felt numb and unable to feel any sort of happiness in the past couple of months as his mental state was slowly chipped at by his classmates, destroying the view he had of himself until all he can view is the freak that they always call him.

"Would you like water or something else instead?" Letha asks him and Artem slowly brings his gaze up to her before shaking his head in response. Letha continues to give him a kind smile that has Artem on edge, questioning how she could possibly be genuine to him. She has eyes, she can see how disgusting he is. "Okay, no problem. Just let me know if you need anything."

"Let me know if I can do anything too!" Iris chimes in cheerfully, bouncing Leandro on her lap as she smiles over at the pair of tributes. "I want to help however I can."

Artem can barely bring himself to give a small shrug of his shoulders at this, can't bring himself to say anything. He knows he should be grateful for their help and looking out for him – his fathers raised him to be respectful of adults – but…he just can't care about anything when his death is imminent.

"So," Letha says as she gets comfortable in her chair, Aion sitting quietly next to her and letting Letha take the lead, even if she's younger than him. Maybe he's like Artem and just can't bring himself to care anymore about tributes after years and years of watching them die. And this year will be more of the same, thanks to him… "We should talk about the group of tributes reaped this year and potential alliances. Do you two want to pair up?"

Artem shakes his head as Margaery gives a shrug of her shoulders, still looking pleasant despite Artem's immediate rejection of her. "I'm open to it but also want to see all of my options first in person," Margaery answers Letha, glancing over at Artem and somehow not looking at him with disgust or weird fascination like people usually do.

"Artem?" Letha asks gently, getting his attention.

Artem lets out a low sigh before he picks up his arm, using it to point at his leg. "I'll just slow Margaery down. No need for me to bring down both of Five's chances of winning…"

"That's nonsense," Letha tells him right away, but he can't believe that she is being truthful. "Just look at this year's group of tributes. There's a few in similar condition to you, including a career! I think you definitely have a shot towards winning and shouldn't count yourself out yet. And…maybe you should talk to Sasha."

"Why would she want someone just like her as an ally?" Artem asks bitterly as he leans back in his chair, wishing he could just melt down into the plush chair and disappear already. "Anyone that allies with me will just be putting themselves at risk. I'm better off alone."

Margaery studies him at this statement, while Letha's frown slowly deepens. Aion is the one to speak up next, not sugarcoating or trying to pretend with his tone. "Kid, I've seen tributes in worst condition than you go into that arena. Tributes with cancer and only months left to live – and one of those _won_. Yes, you have a physical disability, let's not beat around the bush and pretend we can't all see that. But you have lived with that for fourteen years and know how to adapt. You're not physically weakened by an illness. So please, I thought we were on a train to the Capitol, not a pity train."

Artem stares at Aion for a moment, his brain slowly processing the hurtful words he just told him, sending him back home in that moment to his school, the people who say worse to him and hurt him. He can't move for a moment, kept in place by the painful reminder that even the people who are supposed to help him are going to treat him exactly like everyone else. "I'll just go then so you can focus on the tribute who might actually win."

Artem stands up, wobbling for a moment to gain his balance on the moving train, before heading out of the train car, tears forming in his eyes as the only sound is the soft click of his crutch with each step, reminding him that he is broken and going to die…

"Artem!" Letha calls after him as he gets into the next car, breaking the silence and making him pick up his pace to get to his room sooner before she can see just how pitiful he is.

"Leave me alone," Artem tells her bitterly, trying his hardest to move faster to get away from her. And he does keep a fast pace, but Letha catches up when he fumbles at the door to his room, struggling to see through his tears. "See, you caught up to me when I was just trying to walk. I'll never outrun someone in the arena."

"Artem…" Letha says gently, putting a hand on his shoulder to try and comfort him, but it's no use. He knows he's going to die. "No matter what you tell me, I'm not going to give up on helping you. I can see you are capable, but you don't see it… I don't know what has happened to you in Five, but I am not whoever hurt you before."

"They pretended to be nice at first," Artem turns his head to glance over his shoulder at her, trying to ignore the tears forming in her eyes as she watches him. "Just like Aion said, I'm pitiful. So just let me die."

With that, Artem yanks open the door and steps into his room, slamming the door shut behind him. He tries to hold back a sob and he slowly crumples to the floor, unable to muster the energy to get over to the bed before he breaks down. He's going to die. In just a matter of days, he's going to be dead, probably before the bloodbath ends.

"Artem, I'm not giving up on you," Letha calls through the door, but Artem just shakes his head, not believing that at all.

She needs to give up already…he has.

* * *

_Iroha Kinoshita, 18, District Six_

Getting reaped for the Hunger Games is both a blessing and a curse in Iroha's eyes. She hasn't felt this free in…years, really, but the fact that this freedom was brought by the Games… On the one hand, she's finally away from Kayden and knows one of her children is safe. But on the other hand…Noah is still back home in Six with Kayden and will be stuck with him if she doesn't make it out. And there's one big problem getting in the way of her survival.

And it's the big stomach she has blocking her from even seeing her damn toes.

Since boarding the train hours ago, her mind has raced through all the ways she will survive this ordeal. She didn't know who to trust – who to tell the truth about her plan, if anyone. And so she kept up her act of the scared naïve mother trying to protect her baby, able to keep the lie going easily from the partial truth in that. She's absolutely scared shitless at the thought of not helping Noah escape Kayden, but she's not going to cower in fear.

Iroha is counting on everyone else underestimating her just because she's pregnant. If they do, they have never seen a mother in a desperate situation.

She wasn't quite sure if she was fooling her mentors or escort. But she noticed the quiet conversation between them and then Bee disappearing for a while. As for her District partner… Dresden was quiet for a long time, observing Iroha and the mentors just like she was doing with him. But he started opening up sooner to the mentors and when he did, well, Iroha wasn't too impressed by his conceited tone. But she suspected that before he even talked to her, recognizing the money present in the clothes he wore to the Reaping. He didn't ask about an alliance and Iroha was glad for not needing to deny that alliance to his face. He doesn't seem like a bad option, but if Iroha allies with anyone…it's going to be someone that is a bit more gullible. And she already has found herself slipping up a little with her act around Dresden, her body constantly on the verge of going into fight or flight despite no immediate threat. Just the ever looming threat of being put in a death match while eight months pregnant.

As they quietly finish up dinner, Iroha watches everyone with her head down, studying the way they interact with each other and trying to figure out if she can trust her own mentor. Jarle's not much older than her and not a parent himself. How could he possible understand what she plans to do? Or how desperate she is to know if she can trust him to tell him about Kayden so Noah can get taken out of there? But then again…he did take desperate measures to safe himself.

Maybe he's not that different from Iroha.

Bee's phone starts ringing and they leave the room quickly as they quietly answer the phone, glancing back at their table with concern as they leave. Iroha tries not to acknowledge the fact that they were looking at her, but before she can think long on it, Dampero is clearing his throat and Iroha and Dresden bring their attention to him. "So…" Dampero starts quietly as he looks between them. "Should we just assume now that you want to work separately based on the lack of attempts to be friendly with each other?"

"I'm neutral on allies in general," Dresden says with a shrug at Iroha. "No offense to you…but I don't think you'd be helping me out in the arena."

_He's right, she'd be willing to put a knife in his back to make sure she wins for Six over him._

Iroha gives a nod of her head and lets out a side sigh with a frown. "I understand," Iroha says softly, glancing up at Dresden and over to the mentors. "I know I am not in the…best condition for this. I really just want to protect my baby."

Dampero and Jarle share a look at this before Jarle gives her a gentle smile. "Bee has been working on figuring out what the Capitol can do for you. They've gone into full protective parent mode. I guess in the meantime, we should split to discuss strategies right away?"

Dampero nods in agreement, "Yeah, Dresden and I can go elsewhere." The older mentor stands up and motions for Dresden to follow him, the boy only looking slightly annoyed that he's the one that has to move, not Iroha. Iroha holds in a scoff at his attitude. Conceited asshole, not wanting to move and make the pregnant woman move instead.

Jarle moves so he sits directly across from Iroha, who still keeps her head down a little, not trusting him yet. Jarle stays quiet for a minute, studying her before leaning back in his chair and tapping his fingers on the table. "You're not hiding the desperation in your eyes."

Iroha immediately picks up her head to meet his gaze straight on at this, giving him an accusatory look. "How do you know that?" She demands as a hand moves protectively to her stomach.

"Because I had that look in my eyes when I went into the Games," Jarle says with a smile as he continues to take in Iroha. "So I guess my question is if I'm going to be working with the weak mother or the woman who would fight tooth and nail to get out of there alive."

Iroha carefully considers her response, so used to keeping up a lie back home and not showing her true self that it's…unsettling her to try to open up to someone. But this is her mentor, not Kayden… Jarle is going to be her lifeline in that arena, her biggest help in getting out of there alive. "I need this baby out of me before stepping foot in that arena."

"Bee is working on that," Jarle responds right away, glancing down at her stomach for a second before returning his gaze back to hers. "Let them work on that while we work on a strategy to get you out of there."

Iroha hesitates to agree to this, so used to counting on just herself for survival. If she only counts on herself, she can't get disappointed when people don't follow through on their word or try to hurt her. So she'll respect Jarle and what he has to say, but she's not going to believe what he says about her baby until she sees it happen. "To start, know that I will do anything to survive. _Anything._"

* * *

**Choo choo, train rides time! Let me tell you, these two chapters took me so much effort to push through them and write them XD It was a struggle to make them all different enough from each other. I hope I did well with this one, but hard to do when you have the three career Districts together and Sasha, Abel, and Artem together lol. **

**But we get to see some more of our non-featured tributes! That's the main reason I chose to write train ride POVs for each featured tribute, to see them some more. And also we start to see some of the wheels turning of strategy for the arena!**

**RQ #13: **What District pair interaction surprised you the most?

**That's all I have to say about this chapter lol. OH! I remembered what I wanted to say lol XD Not Legacy related, but starting this Friday, April 24th, I am opening up tribute subs for the sequel to Senseless, Renegades: The 151st Hunger Games! There's been a lot of changes made and I have info up on my profile about the subs (just beware spoilers for recent Senseless chapters) and I hope you consider submitting a tribute :) In addition, escorts subs are open as of yesterday and all escorts needs to have a new form submitted, so there are lots of opportunities to get in! **

**Alright that's all I have to say for real now lol. I'll see you next Monday with the second set of train rides!**


	18. Train Rides Part 2

**Chapter 14:**

_Pascal Flores, 12, District Seven_

Pascal doesn't know what to do as he paces his room. After boarding the train, Winona quietly asked Pascal to come talk to her later, and he can take a good guess what that's about. He knows who their sibling is. Their sibling has come and gone in their house before, a double agent for the rebels working in the Capitol and giving them information. If Luciano knows who he is, then Winona knows.

And he isn't sure if he wants people to know that he's from a rebel family that might have rigged him in.

But he doesn't know for sure…that's the piece holding him back from telling anyone. Because if they did rig him in, well they can piss off. But if not…he can't be jeopardizing Elin and his friends, even if the others are assholes to him sometimes. They're only kids, still safe from the Reaping. But they won't be if Pascal tells the Capitol about them.

What a shitty situation.

Pascal's stomach lets out a big rumble and he sighs as he looks down at it. Dinner won't be for a couple hours…and he was too anxious to eat much lunch so shortly after they got on the train. They shouldn't be mad if he snacks…right?

And if they are, too bad. They're not the ones heading into the Hunger Games.

Mind made up, Pascal opens the door and sticks his head out, making sure no one is out, before stepping out and quietly making his way over to the dining car.

"Where are you going?"

At least he thought he was being quiet. Pascal holds back a scowl at being stopped in the hallway, but relaxes a little when he realizes it's just his District partner, not one of their mentors or Winona coming to lecture him on strategy. What strategy could possibly work for him? He's a scrawny twelve year old. He ain't making it out of that arena alive – regardless of the fact that he's been raised around rebels. "None of your business."

"It is though," Betula comments as Pascal keeps walking, following him over into the next room. Pascal stomps his feet a little as he heads over to the food table and starts putting stuff on his plate. Betula sits down at the table, watching him as he turns around and contemplates going back to his room with his food. "Am I that repulsive you don't even want to sit with me?"

"I could ask the same," Pascal asks, glancing down at himself for a moment before quickly looking back over at Betula, swallowing to fight back the uneasy pit in his stomach he always gets over his _lovely_ pre-teen body. "Fine," Pascal grumbles as he takes a seat across from them. Sitting with them is a better option than going back to his room alone and dealing with the mess of emotions in him right now. "So why am I part of your business?"

Betula shrugs at him as he starts stabbing lettuce a bit aggressively, "You're the only one remotely close to my age. I don't know what the hell I'm supposed to talk about with people that are that ancient."

Pascal snorts at that, making the hint of a smile form on their face. "Laurel isn't even thirty yet."

"Way older than I'll ever get," Betula retorts and Pascal finds himself starting to nod his head in agreement, before frowning at how quickly he's ready to be resigned to his death.

"You don't seem to bothered by being picked," Pascal points out and Betula gives another shrug. "Why?"

Betula gives him a long look before reaching up to their hair and pulling it, making it slide right off and leaving behind a bald head. "Why do you think?" Betula asks him as Pascal stares with wide eyes, taking in their appearance. They start scowling a little at Pascal staring and throw their wig at his face, making him jump in surprise. "Stop staring, dumbass, or I'm not going to help you."

"Why the hell would you want to help me?" Pascal asks, not afraid to let out his sass when Betula is being just as sassy to him. "You don't even know me. For all you know, I could be the biggest douchebag in District Seven."

"You're not, I knew some of them," Betula answers as they lean back and kick up their feet onto the table. "Look, Pascal…I'm dying. Been dying for a year now. I'm tired of being sick, I'm tired of being a burden on my family. So yeah, I feel like I was picked for a reason and that reason was to just die already."

"I'm sorry," Pascal tells them quietly, genuinely feeling bad for them that they are so ready to die. "I…" Pascal shakes his head, deciding it's not worthwhile trying to bring up the fact that he suspects he was rigged in. "You didn't answer my question."

"I suppose if I'm not making it out of that arena, I might as well do my best to help District Seven get another victor. Make my death not in vain, or whatever bullshit people say," Betula responds, trying to sound all chill about it, but Pascal can see that deep down, they are a little afraid of dying.

"I wouldn't be so certain about me making it out of there alive," Pascal says quietly, knowing that if the Capitol learns who he knows…and if he doesn't frame it right, he's a dead man walking. But can he really convince them that he isn't still a bit on their side if it means dooming his friends? And does he really want to die for Vera Snow?

Betula just picks up a water glass and holds it up to him. "Cheers, to the doomed District. May we die valiantly."

Pascal snorts at their comment as he picks up his own water glass to clink against theirs, yet despite trying to pretend he's fine with this joking around, he's really not.

He's petrified at the thought of dying and knowing there might be knowing he can do to stop his death.

* * *

_Grey Pendleton, 17, District Eight_

As Grey sits back on the train, listening to Barathea and Chef Mae get details from Gwenith about her terrible home life, Grey just simply cannot believe that she was raised like that. A mother missing for over a year, possibly dead. An abusive father who caused the injuries on her face, drove her to drink and take the desperate move of volunteering to escape him. Well she has him now, he'll protect her.

She just doesn't know it yet. But she'll know soon enough.

"I really think it would be beneficial for us to be allies," Grey speaks up finally, bringing the attention of the four people over to him, but he only cares about Gwenith. She's the one that needs his help, and he doubts the mentors know better than him what she needs, having spent his whole life watching and raising kids. And he most certainly isn't going to listen to the escort that spent the entire Reaping insulting him.

"Don't you want people older and not messes like me?" Gwenith asks stubbornly, crossing her arms and wincing a little in pain, making him jump up from his spot to put his hands on his hips as he looks at the mentors just sitting there.

"Has anyone even offered her pain medication?" Grey accusingly asks them before shaking his head at the looks they share. He knows the answer, having sat back and waited to see if they would be any help for Gwenith. Of course they aren't, they're not Grey. Grey sighs as he looks at Gwenith, giving her a pity smile, "I'm sorry, Gwenith, if I had known, I would have gotten that for you right away."

Astrid crosses her arms at him and Grey gives his mentor his best cheery smile as she gives him a response, having stayed quiet until he no longer did the same, "Grey, why don't you shut the fuck up and let the mentors do their job?"

"Well you haven't done a good job at mentoring her," Grey says casually, glancing over at Gwenith and noticing her watching him curiously, not looking as stubborn and brash anymore. Perfect. "It's clear none of you have been around children. I mean, one of you _is_ still a child."

"Come here, you bitch boy," Astrid says angrily, getting ready to jump over towards him and being held back by Barathea, who no longer looks amused by Astrid's attitude and instead angry at Grey. "Why the hell did you even volunteer if you're just going to argue with us every step of the way?"

"Astrid," Barathea warns the young girl and Grey just shakes his head at her attitude. Again, a clear example of someone not raised properly. She didn't even _have_ parents to raise her and her disrespect for him makes it clear. "Grey, we are trying to help you both, but you're making it difficult for us."

"That's fine because I don't need your help," Grey tells them with a shrug, moving over to Gwenith to stand protectively near her. "And Gwenith doesn't need your help, she has me. Right, Gwenith?"

The girl is put on the spot by his question and he suspects she might still be a little drunk, or at least on her way to a wicked hangover – something he'll have to scold her about later before offering water. She looks hesitant for a moment and Grey increases the grin he gives her, cranking up the reliable older brother vibes he gives all the kids he looks after. Eventually, she nods her head in agreement, "Yeah…Grey is my ally."

"Of course, someone needs to look after you," Grey says proudly, giving the mentors a smug look as they stare back at him in various levels of disbelief and annoyance. "Now come, let's go get you some painkillers," Grey tells Gwenith, getting an obedient nod of her head after a couple seconds. "And some water, since I'm sure no one thought of the fact that you need _that_ after drinking," Grey adds, giving a pointed look at the mentors.

"Yeah, my head hurts," Gwenith says quietly as she stands up and puts a hand to her forehead, swaying a little in her spot and Grey watches, wondering if she is going to fall. She takes a couple steps and stumbles, and Grey lets her fall, but quickly offers a hand to help her up. Gwenith laughs a little at her stumble, proving to Grey she's still intoxicated, and takes Grey's hand.

"You need to be more careful, what would you do without me around to help you up?" Grey asks as he starts to lead her over to the next car, turning back to give the mentors a look before the door shuts behind them.

"Probably be just fine," Gwenith answers as she stumbles again, but doesn't fall this time.

Grey doesn't let his smile falter at this comment, knowing that he just needs to work a little to make sure Gwenith knows she needs him. "Maybe right now, but what about in training when we're around sharp weapons? Or the arena when everyone else wants to kill you?"

"Hmph," Gwenith answers, at least not outright disagreement with him over this as he opens the door to her room and sits her down at the bed. He points at her to stay there and she rolls her eyes, but follows his guidance. Good, already learning.

"Let's see what I can get for you," Grey says as he goes into the bathroom to see what medicine the Capitol has for them. There's only a small selection of pills, no doubt to keep them from overdosing to avoid the Games, and even the options available won't do much. He definitely can't leave any of these for her, what if she takes the wrong thing without him? Well…it would make sure she depends on him. Or he can just give them to her.

"You know, you really shouldn't drink like that," Grey calls over to Gwenith in the next room as he opens the small package of painkillers and takes one out before pocketing the rest to make sure Gwenith knows she has to go to him for them in the future. He shakes his head at her as he walks back into the room, watching her hold out her hand to him. "I'm not going to have an ally that is counting on alcohol and pills, Gwenith. Don't disappoint me."

"I won't, I just have a headache," Gwenith comments as she gestures with her hand, and Grey waits another moment before sighing heavily and placing the pill in her hand. She quickly swallows it, wincing a little at the uncomfortableness of not having water to drink with it. "Thanks."

"Of course," Grey says with a smile. "You just come to me for things."

"Sure," Gwenith says as she lays back on the bed, her eyes watering as she curls up around herself. "No one treats me like this anymore. Not since my- my mo-"

"Your parents failed you," Grey says, voice sweet as he tries to soothe her. "It's not surprising you ended up like this with parents like that. But I'm here now. And I'm going to protect you and our allies."

"Allies?" Gwenith asks in confusion and Grey nods his head, knowing there's a short list of people he will not take no for an answer about being allies.

Grey will make sure they are his allies. He has to protect them, just like he has to protect Quill. "Yes Gwenith, allies."

* * *

_Asha Kader, 18, District Nine_

As Asha stares up at the ceiling, the minutes slowly ticking by in the darkness, she can feel herself getting torn in two directions. More so than she's been feeling the past couple of months as Slash slowly started to encroach on her daily life, infiltrating her normally meek demeanor and giving her a lust for power in the day time. She'd been trying desperately to push it back, afraid of what she might do or who she might hurt. But now…now she's starting to think that embracing Slash might be her one chance of making it out of the Hunger Games alive.

Yet that thought brings immense fear to her, fear over who she will become… But how else is she supposed to survive?

Asha can't take anymore of laying around, just hoping for sleep to come to her when clearly it won't. She slides her feet into a pair of excessively fluffy slippers, feeling bad for a moment that she's being gifted all of this luxury without doing anything or having any way of paying it back, before she pushes that thought aside and remembers they are also sending her into the Games. She deserves to get some luxury now. Besides…she might be paying with her life or the lives of others.

_No, she can't think like that._

Asha puts a hand to her head, shaking it as she struggles with her internal turmoil. Fuck…why can't she get a grip on herself? Why is she even having these thoughts? Asha lets out a groan of frustration before stomping out of her room, tired and angry both from the fact that she can't sleep and at herself for even having these thoughts. She should be caring that she's making noise down the hallway and it's late, but fuck it. Let them know that the girl doomed for the Games is up and angry.

Asha suddenly slows as she approaches the dining car, upset at herself for that. She glances around at the rooms, wondering if she should go apologize to them for making noise…but what if she hadn't woken them up and then by apologizing she does? She can apologize in the morning… Asha continues, much quieter, and she hesitates in the doorway as she realizes people are already in there. "Sorry," Asha says quickly to Laine and Sativa when they stop talking and look over at her. "I just couldn't sleep but I can go somewhere else."

"No worries, please stay," Sativa tells her with a smile and Laine nods his head, looking as exhausted as Asha feels. Asha hesitates for a moment and Sativa pats the couch near her. "It's alright, you're a District team. Laine couldn't sleep either."

"Okay," Asha agrees tentatively, slowly walking over to the couch. Sativa stands up to make room for her and Asha quickly tries to motion her back down. "Please, don't get up for me."

"It's fine," Sativa reassures her, but Asha doesn't fully believe that… "I'll just go get Lelantos so you can talk with them, if you like."

Asha nearly starts shaking her head, not wanting to wake up her mentor and yet…part of her wants to know what they think about her. She saw the looks they have given her, the knowing looks that have told her that they are aware of who she is. And if they know…why would they mentor her? "Sure," Asha replies meekly as she sits down on the couch, getting a smile in return from Sativa before she heads towards their rooms.

Asha glances down at the floor as she swings her feet around, not knowing what to talk to Laine about in the meantime. "Can't sleep too?" Laine asks her and Asha glances up for a moment, nodding her head before bringing her feet up and tucking them underneath her. "Me too…it's tough. My brain just won't stop thinking about all the possible outcomes."

"Yeah…" Asha agrees quietly, looking back over at Laine to find him smiling politely at her, encouraging her to talk a bit more to him. "There's so many uncertainties, the main one being how I'm going to make it through the arena."

"Well," Laine starts softly, pausing as he looks away for a moment, brushing his hair back before turning back to her. "You know…it's not a bad idea if we were to work together… At least for now. If you find someone else, you can always go with them but…I'd rather not be alone."

Asha nods her head, feeling a flash of relief at the suggestion, not having realized one of the things keeping her up was the potential loneliness. "Yeah maybe," she answers as Sativa and Lelantos enter the room. Asha quickly stands up and gives her mentor an apologetic look as they approach. "I'm sorry if I woke you up."

Lelantos shakes their head, but they are clearly holding back a yawn. "It's alright, I sleep like shit on these trains anyways. What's up?"

Asha glances hesitantly between Laine and Lelantos, unsure if she wants her potential ally knowing about this part of herself… She's not sure yet if she's going to tell the country about Slash. "Can we go talk alone for a bit?"

"Of course," Lelantos answers and waves their hand over their shoulder for her to follow. She obediently follows them over to the next room and Lelantos gets settled down on the couch, letting out another yawn. She sits across from them, bringing her knees up to her chest and holding her legs. "What do you want to talk about?"

"You," Asha answers softly, making them raise their eyebrow at her. She clears her throat, quickly trying to clarify, "I mean, why you chose to mentor me. You seemed to know about me and with your history, I just… Why?"

"Why would I choose to mentor someone that works at the brothel that nearly ruined my life from the addiction I developed?" Lelantos asks and Asha bites her lip nervously as she nods her head in confirmation. "Fonio told me. I thought maybe I could help someone not get ruined by that place like I have."

"I think it already has…" Asha nervously tells them. "Slash – my dominatrix side…I can feel her starting to infiltrate the normal part of my life. And I'm scared because I _like_ the thought of it."

Lelantos stares at her for a minute, their face unreadable as they contemplate what to tell her. "Asha," they say firmly, getting her to look at them with a bit of defiance at the controlling tone to their voice. "I don't want to see you get ruined by it but…that might just help you survive in the arena if you embrace your domineering side. All that matters right now is that we get you out of the arena alive. And no matter what, I will be there to get you through whatever happened in that arena and not let you end up like me."

Asha considers this, thinking about what it would be like in the arena to let Slash take control, to punish people… _And she likes the idea._

* * *

_Sissel Wetherburn, 17, District Ten_

Sissel has known for a long time that people are twisted and fucked up, but as he sits here on the train to the Capitol to prepare for a televised death match, discussing strategies to be the last one alive, it's all so obvious. At home, death with birds has meaning – if they don't kill, they'll starve. But in the Hunger Games? He can't help but feel a little jaded at the way he'll be forced to kill for entertainment, not for purpose. Sure, the Games were interesting to watch at home until he grew too irritated at the irrational ways tributes acted.

But that doesn't mean he hasn't already started planning how he will survive to make sure he is the one that makes it out of the arena alive. He knows for the short term the birds will be taken care of, but what will happen in the long term if he doesn't make it out alive? What happens when his father is too old to run the sanctuary? Sissel refuses to find out what would happen. He will do whatever it takes to protect his birds.

Sissel sits back as he listens to the two mentors talking with Ally over strategy, letting her ask questions and just taking in everything. The girl has shown her stubbornness right away and how unafraid she is to stand up to everyone, including Johan, to defend what she believes in. Sissel can't help but question if it's real, knowing that she can't truly be altruistic about wanting to help out the couple tributes younger than her. No one is that willing to help people out of goodness. He has yet to see people act without their own ulterior motive.

This is why he likes to be around birds instead. It's so much easier to understand their motives and actions.

"Sissel?"

Sissel tilts his head slightly to the side as he glances over at Danila as he mentors goes into a coughing fit. Johan gives her a concerned look that she quickly dismisses before addressing Sissel, "You've been quiet. Have you been thinking about strategy?"

"Of course," Sissel answers immediately. He hasn't stopped thinking about how he will get out of there alive since his name was called out, how he'll get back to his birds. He's not fooling anyone with his size, barely pushing 5'4". He knows he'll fight tooth and nail if it comes down to it, but he has plans on how to prevent that. After all, how different can traps for humans be for traps for birds?

"Are you going to share?" Danila presses him, raising her eyebrows at him expectantly. Sissel just gives a shrug at her, glancing over at Ally sitting there, knowing he isn't going to reveal his plans in front of her. Let one tribute know and soon enough, everyone will know. Teenagers love to gossip and he doesn't know her.

Danila catches the look Sissel gives at Ally as Johan lets out a pleasant laugh as he addresses his fellow mentor. "Another stubborn bull, reminds me of you."

"Actually more like a crow," Sissel says right away, much rather preferring the comparison to a bird instead of a bull, yet he doesn't deny it. "Or seagulls. Those birds are notoriously stubborn."

"Then how about we go chat over in the next room?" Danila asks Sissel as she stands up, and he gives another nonchalant shrug as he follows her lead. No need to give Ally any reason to question him. He gives Johan and Ally a pleasant smile before leaving the room, silently following his mentor.

"So, not a fan of sharing in front of Ally?" Danila asks him as she sits on the edge of the table to face him.

Sissel nods his head respectfully, "I don't like opening up to people. You can't trust what motives they have in their heart, not anyone outside of family."

"I respect that and it's smart, given the position you're currently in," Danila answers, gesturing for him to take a seat near where she leans. "I don't want to press you, but I will say it makes it easier for me to help get you out alive if you open up to me. We're on the same page here: we both want you to be the victor."

Sissel nods his head in agreement, having to adjust his beanie as it starts slipping off his head. "Then know I have no problem with killing and doing whatever it takes to win. My birds are on the line and I will do anything to protect them. _Anything._"

Danila opens her mouth to speak but starts coughing again as she holds up her finger for him to wait. "Good," Danila says through a cough, her eyes watering as she struggles to hold it in. "Johan likes playing fair, but I'm of the mindset that you do whatever to survive. So what does that mean for you?"

Sissel contemplates for a moment, wondering just how much he should open up to her about now, torn between letting her in to his full strategy and not trusting her fully. "I need trapping materials. And if I can have a falcon, well, I can do damage there. We can both see I'm not winning any outright fights."

Danila looks him over for a moment, debating her response, before going for honesty, "You're a scrawny ass kid."

"Yes, I am aware," Sissel answers her, not annoyed because it's the truth. "But…"

"Sissel, I promise, no question is going to be too out there," Danila reassures him, yet he thinks this one might be. He really doesn't know how many tributes will be asking what he is asking for. Well, actually he does know that answer – no one is going to ask for _exactly_ what he has in mind. But if they agree…Sissel will have no problem taking out the biggest threats in the arena.

"How do I go about asking the Gamemakers for a specific thing to help me fight in the arena and do you think they would agree to it?"

Danila raises her eyebrows at this question, clearly wanting to ask what it is, but thankfully doesn't yet. "I suppose it's going to depend on what it is. If it will be entertaining…there's a good possibility. You're not going to tell me what it is, are you?"

Sissel shakes his head immediately, knowing it will be out in the open soon enough. But he won't tell Danila just yet. "Not until I know their answer."

* * *

_Jendaya "Jenny" Barrett, 18, District Eleven_

Karma just wants to keep biting her in the ass, but Jenny is not going to sit back and let it. She is going to fight tooth and nail to get out of this arena alive. She didn't work her way from nothing to having a wealthy family, suffer through abuse from her husband before his…untimely death…to just roll over and let some prissy tributes win who have had their parents give them everything and paid for them to learn to kill. Jenny's a survivor, she's worked for what she has, and she's not giving it up easily.

She's lucky to have a mentor of the same mindset. Sure, Kanzi doesn't know what it's like to survive someone like Kane, but she was willing to do whatever it took to win, even sacrificing her own allies. She understood the Games are a selfish thing and it's her or them. They've gotten along well so far, sitting in a separate room watching the reaping recaps and sipping wine, taking notes and discussing who would make good allies and who to watch out for.

If they would have met in a different place…Jenny could almost see them as friends. Maybe they can be after this hell is over.

Part of her is glad Grant wanted to keep to himself from the get go, even if he seemed nice… But Jenny knows better. Boys can seem nice on the surface, but they're just hiding the nasty ugly truth deep down until they can use it to hurt people. Well Jenny won't fall for that from anyone, not even her District partner – even if he's shown no signs yet of being anything other than nice, albeit sad. But who isn't a little sad right now?

"The careers are a hot mess this year," Kanzi comments with a shake of her head, watching Claudia and Elliot discuss the six careers, analyzing the potential pack and making predictions on their future alliance. "Which is all the better for you."

"I'm not allying with any rogue careers," Jenny says with a snort before sipping her wine. "Those are the exact kind of people I want to stay away from."

"I know, I meant it's better that they split," Kanzi tells her, gesturing at the screen with her glass. "Less unity means less effective at killing. I bet there's a good chance that a non-career wins this year."

"Yeah, me," Jenny answers and Kanzi offers her glass to cheers at that. Jenny taps her mentor's glass before smiling as she turns back to the screen and the analysis of everyone from just the Reaping. "Now to figure out which people to ally with."

"There's some good options," Kanzi comments and Jenny nods her head, staying silent as a small pit begins to form in her stomach that she can't push away as she stares at the screen. "Who do you want?"

"Not an asshole," Jenny answers right away, making Kanzi chuckle at the response.

"And do you have some sort of secret asshole radar?"

"The assholes have a certain air to them," Jenny says with a shrug, not wanting to get too into how she knows that yet. Not even Kanzi can know the things she's done to survive. "See it enough and you can recognize it easily. Like Grey? Huge bitch, he has that air. I want…someone trusting, not too young. Someone who will feel bad for me having lost my _sweet_ husband."

"Yes, the ultimate pity card," Kanzi nods her head, already having picked up that Kane was not a good person despite Jenny not flat-out telling her. "They'll never see you coming."

"I hope not," Jenny answers quietly, knowing that when – not if – she kills, it won't be flashy. No, she's going for the sneaky silent ways to kill. "And…I don't want to really ally with any boys, unless they show they're not an asshole."

"Then let's focus on the others," Kanzi says, looking down at her notepad filled with scratched out comments on the tributes. "Sasha?"

"Small maybe. I want fighting skills," Jenny comments right away, not immediately counting out Sasha. She'll wait until training to see if the girl has drive to fight.

"Margaery?"

"Maybe too young, but a good maybe," Jenny answers, wanting to see more of Margaery before making any decisions. But if she's trusting and naïve…

"Iroha's an obvious no," Kanzi says, shaking her head as she crosses off Iroha's name on the list, missing the brief moment of conflicting emotions on Jenny's face as she thinks about the woman. Iroha…she can't help the feeling that Iroha being there, so obviously pregnant, is karma giving Jenny a big middle finger in her face, reminding her of the child she lost. Can she watch Iroha lose her child?

_Stop, Jenny_. There's nothing she can do to stop Iroha's death, not if she plans to win. Yet as she takes a sip of her wine, delaying her response, she can't help but picture the vulnerable look in Iroha's eyes as she took to the stage, the desperate look of a mother who would do anything to save their child…

Fuck, she can't be feeling this way towards Iroha.

"Solid no," Jenny tells Kanzi and herself, changing the topic to the other tributes. "Don't even ask about Betula, too young."

"Gwenith?"

Jenny shakes her head, "Volunteers are targets and she seems too brash to just follow me."

"Fair," Kanzi agrees before moving on. "Asha?"

"Good possibility," Jenny says, remembering the way Asha was hesitant, but seemed to have a drive in her.

"And Ally?"

"Too young," Jenny shakes her head, even as she realizes her list of potential allies is very small. But if none of them work, well she is fine with counting on just herself. Only she can get herself out of there.

Kanzi looks down at her list for a few seconds before looking over at Jenny, who can just tell from her face she's not going to like it. "Are you sure you don't want to consider the boys?"

"Not unless I go through all my options first," Jenny answers immediately, knowing that possibility is small. They'd _really_ need to prove themselves to her, and even then, Jenny will always be on edge around them. All thanks to stupid Kane.

"Then I guess we have our plan," Kanzi says as she tosses her notepad aside and holds her glass up to Jenny. "Here's to our next District Eleven victor."

"Cheers," Jenny answers, a smirk forming on her face at the confidence her mentor has in her. And Jenny can't wait to put karma in its place, refusing to give in to it.

_Fuck you, Kane, you're not winning from Hell._

* * *

**And there we have the rest of the train rides! I'm really excited to get to the things I've set the groundwork for here in these chapters (plus some other things we'll get to later on). Next chapter we're getting to the chariots and we'll start seeing tributes from different Districts interacting, and I can't wait!**

**In other exciting news, subs are officially open for my next full SYOT _Renegades: The 151st Hunger Games!_**** This is a direct sequel to Senseless and there's lots of changes, including this being the first story I will be writing with 24 tributes...*eyes emoji* All the info for it is up on my profile and I hope you'll considering submitting!**

**Oh I should probably start making a list of confirmed allies, even though at this point it's just District pairs. Next chapter we'll see it start changing up:**

\- Bitch don't cross me (Rodrick, Tiv)

\- Sure Kaz, you're totally in charge (Marian, Kaz)

\- Still allies even if they don't chat much (Abel, Orin)

\- The Sassy Pre-Teens (TM) (Pascal, Betula)

\- The Babysitter Club (Grey, Gwenith)

\- Good to have backup, am I right? (Asha, Laine)

**RQ #14:** Hmm, what are your prediction(s) on alliances?

**Alright that's all I have to say about this chapter. I'll see you all next week with the chariots!**


	19. Chariots: Put On A Show

**Chapter 15:**

_Seraphim Lukianas, Gamemaker Intern_

Awe fills Seraphim as he follows Lisia out onto the Presidential Balcony for the chariot rides, still in disbelief that this is actually his life right now. He even pinches his arm discretely as Lisia directs him to a seat next to her, only two seats away from where the President of Panem sits.

Seriously, how is this real life?

"Hello again, Seraphim," President Xavier calls to him over the muffled conversations of the gathered crowd below, all of them waiting to get their first glimpses of the tributes in person. "I assume Lisia is keeping you busy?"

Seraphim nods his head diligently as he leans past Lisia to smile at the President. "Absolutely, sir, but I don't mind the workload."

Lisia laughs at this as the lights start to dim in the Capitol, a select few lighting up the path the tributes are about to take. "Seraphim keeps asking for extra projects. He'll shape up to be a fine Gamemaker someday."

"Perhaps even Head Gamemaker?" President Xavier asks before leaning back in his chair to watch as the doors open, letting the chariots out to the crowd waiting. Which Seraphim is glad for, because he doesn't know what to tell the President in response to that question. Maybe he will someday…but Seraphim is really just trying to survive the stress of just this first year as an intern.

Seraphim tries to pay attention to the quiet conversation going on between Lisia and the President, but he's too starstruck by sitting up with the Head Gamemaker and President for the chariot rides. His brain simply can't keep up with anything but the extravagant costumes Lisia has directed the stylists to make for her grand finale.

The District One chariot appears first, but the cheers aren't as loud as Seraphim expected, no doubt due to Rodrick's criminal status. But even with the subdued cheers – still way louder than cheers for the outer Districts – the pair is dazzling under the colored lights of the Capitol, quite literally. The pair has been placed in matching white jumpsuits covered in crystals, but that's not the standout part of their costumes. That belongs to the huge wings the pair wears made entirely of long pieces of crystals that Seraphim knows makes an excessive amount of noise when moving. The final piece of their costume is a staff with a large ice blue crystal on top, tying together the crystalline outfit. Nativity stands tall and proud, waving at the crowd cheerfully and even making a few dramatic poses with her staff, all to pump up the crowd, while Rodrick stands there, giving waves at the crowd but keeping a cold and emotionless expression.

The District Two chariot appears soon and the cheers of the crowd increase at the sight of them. For a moment, the pair stands completely still, letting the illusion of their long gowns tied at the waist truly look as if made out of stone, the only thing giving it away being the stone feathers of their wings jostling with the movement of the chariot. But Marian soon breaks the spell of their stone angel costume, waving at the crowd while keeping a hard look on her face, making sure they're not going to underestimate her. Kaz is a lot more subdued, no doubt doing his best to not be overstimulated by the loud crowd around them, but thankfully he asked for discrete earplugs before the chariot, letting him give some small waves as he gets comfortable. But from the way he grips his staff topped with a large marble ball, Seraphim can tell he's still stressed by the crowd.

The cheers aren't quite as loud as the District Three chariot comes into view, but people are starting to pick up on the theme Lisia has this year. The pair wears simple black jumpsuits to allow the small jumps of lights in the path of lightning to be visible. Their wings have feathers made of clear plastic, and have pathways of electricity darting down to the tips of the wings. Sasha clings to the staff with a clear ball on top, a swirl of electricity moving inside it, obviously using it to steady herself while the other hand grips the side of the chariot. She's too focused on staying steady to do more than have a bit of a scowl of annoyance on her face. Her District partner, Samis, isn't doing much better, standing there mostly stoic and facing ahead, but he does crack a little bit of a smile at the infectious cheers from the crowd.

The crowd's volume increases once more for District Four. So far, their costume is the least different from normal years, but the crowd doesn't care. Seraphim is pretty sure the stylists just took the typical mermaid and made it an angel… The pair wears gowns of seaweed, paired with wings made of glittery blue and green mermaid scales, and unlike a staff topped with something, they just have a trident. Yep…mermaids, but make it angels. Orin doesn't seem to thrilled about the outfit or the crowd, keeping a sullen face as ze face forward, not interacting with the Capitol at all. But Aberforth is doing more than enough to make up for his District partner, grinning and waving at the crowd, looking as charming as can be as he even blows them a few kisses. In contrast to Orin, Aberforth is clearly excited to be in the Capitol and completing the dream that was nearly taken from him by his training accident.

District Five appears next and has gone for representing the coal aspect of their power output, giving them a strong contrast to District Three. The pair looks like they're going a bit for edgy goth vibes, dressed in all black with chains crossing over them – and giving Seraphim a terrible flashback to the vibe he tried to have for a whole week back when he was thirteen. The real standout part of the costume is their wings made of white feathers that fade to singed black, with the tips on fire, paired with a staff on fire at the end. Margaery is a cheery happy girl as she waves at the crowd, weirdly conflicting with the dark edgy outfit she has on, but the crowd rolls with it. Artem, meanwhile, fits the edgy look, sitting back on the discrete stool they provided him and harnessed to the chariot under his outfit to protect him, looking on the verge of tears and like he would rather be anywhere but there. He starts looking around in surprise at the audience cheers and for a moment, his face picks up a little, before quickly going back into a frown as he shakes his head.

Seraphim is tense as District Six comes out, not sure how the crowd is going to react to Iroha, but they don't outwardly express any outrage, instead continuing to cheer at their costumes. The pair is dressed in a jumpsuit of bronze metal pieces, with lots of gears and moving pieces on it. Their wings are made of shined bronze cut into the shape of feathers and they hold a staff topped with twisting gears. The cheers for the pair start to die down when they don't do much to appeal to the crowd. Iroha keeps her head down as the chariot moves past the crowd, looking a bit awkward as she deals with the crowd's attention. Meanwhile, Dresden just looks ahead, which works a little bit with his tall frame, but not like it does for the careers.

The crowd's reaction stays low as the pair from Seven appears, no doubt due to the pair being the two youngest tributes of the entire group. Yet the stylists have done a great job creating stunning outfits for the pair, regardless of their age. The two look like they could have just come out of a fairytale movie, dressed in woodsy jumpsuits with vines wrapped around them and gossamer pink fairy wings that complements the wood staff topped with a pink crystal wrapped in vines. However, the pair doesn't look too happy with the outfits. Betula just stands there, staring around with wide eyes and looking a bit helpless and overwhelmed. Pascal is scowling a little about the outfit but when he notices Betula's expression, he leans over to say something to them and they focus on talking to him instead of the crowd.

It takes Seraphim a moment to understand the logic behind District Eight's outfit, but he supposes the stylists have a bit of a challenge when the industry is just _textiles_. And so the tributes have been put in quite the interesting leather jumpsuit with bat wings, along with a staff topped with a bat in flight. Gwenith struggles for a bit with the attention on her, but with some encouragement from Grey, she slowly starts to embrace it and begin waving. Grey is charismatic as can be despite being put in what must be an uncomfortably hot leather outfit, grinning and waving at the crowd to win them over. The crowd is quite excited to see the pair of outer District volunteers, and it doesn't seem like they are disappointing.

The District Nine pair takes everyone aback for a moment at the unique take on their industry of grain, spinning the use of scythes into a grim reaper-esque outfit. The pair wears dark brown burlap gowns, tied with a rope around their waists, and wearing a pair of wings made out of scythes that surely must be quite heavy, paired with a staff with a skull on top. Asha looks unsure of what to do at first, looking around nervously at the crowd with a feeble smile, but she soon puts her shoulders back and tries to be a bit more confident as she waves at the crowd. Laine on the other hand has a look of awe on his face as he looks around at the Capitol crowd, waving and smiling at them.

The cheers of the crowd spike when the District Ten chariot comes out and Seraphim doesn't blame them with the enthusiastic show one of the tributes is putting on. Instead of a pair of wings on their backs, the tributes have wings over their arms with an outfit covered in feathers and a headpiece of a beak, turning them into a bird of prey. Ally is doing her best to look presentable and wave politely to the crowd, but it's a little challenging with the wings on her arm. But Sissel is in his glory, striking a variety of poses including looking like he's a bird about to take flight, along with some silly ones to show off the wings in their full glory, all with a winning smile on his face.

And then the final chariot appears with the District Eleven chariots, trailing flowers behind them coming from the pair of tributes. They wear jumpsuits covered in flowers with a flower crown, and giant wings of flowers. There's so many flowers, you can barely see the tributes underneath them. And of course, their staff has a big blossoming flower on the end of it. Jendaya is confident underneath all the flowers, waving at the crowd and dazzling them with a charming smile, looking at ease under all of their attention. Grant seems unsure what to do at first before giving some hesitant waves at the crowd, but that soon stops when he realizes he's not standing out nearly as much as Jendaya with her confidence.

The chariots all soon come to a stop in the City Circle below them and with them up close…Seraphim finds himself leaning forward to get a better look of them as the President goes to make a speech to officially start this year's Hunger Games. He's always like watching the chariots at home with his mother, but this? This is truly spectacular…

Yeah, he can see himself doing this for a career.

* * *

_Marian Lilley, 18, District Two_

Marian has never had this much praise being sent her way ever in her life. She's always been criticized and knocked down, told she wasn't going to be as good as the boys, she would die if she went into the Games, and she should just sit back and be a good wife. But being out there in front of the Capitol crowd cheering _her_ name… God, Marian could relive that moment over and over, get drunk on their cheers and the praise she's been fighting to receive all her life.

_If only Jazmyn could have been here with her to experience it._

Marian quickly clears that thought, knowing she cannot let herself start feeling sad now about not getting to see her sister in months… So she quickly redirects her focus on how she will make sure that she gets home to her sister. Once Jory had finally been done sucking face with Zephyr – and who knows what other things Marian _really_ does not want to picture about the two mentors – they finally had a plan in place for her. A plan to make sure she has everyone in the career pack in line while letting Kaz lead and take the possible blame for things. Sure, she would try to keep him safe to some extent, but only until the threats are gone. Then it's fair game.

And now…it's showtime.

The chariot comes to a stop and Marian turns to her District partner. "You good?" Marian asks Kaz, watching as he looks over at her in confusion, not able to hear what she said. She taps at her ear, reminding him about the earplugs and he quickly reaches up and takes one out, testing that the noise is subdued now that they're inside, before pulling out the other. "Are you okay?"

Kaz slowly nods his head, not quite looking okay, but he soon gives her an answer, clearly starting to grow a bit more comfortable with her. _Good._ "I think so… I have to be okay, we need to establish the career pack."

"Right-o, after you, my friend," Marian says with a grin, gesturing out of the chariot for Kaz to go first. Part of her deep down protests letting Kaz take the lead, knowing it should be her…but she quickly silences that part, knowing she should sit back and let him lead the pack. It's unusual for the career leaders to win anyways, except in certain years that get more focus than others for some reason. Hmm…maybe she should try to lead the pack, there could be a trend.

Marian ignores this thought as she jumps down from the chariot and puts a hand on Kaz's shoulder, holding him in place before he goes marching off to the others. "Let them come to us," Marian says quietly, keeping up the friendly smile on her face as she looks around and sees Aberforth starting to lead Orin in their direction.

"But we're establishing the pack," Kaz responds with a bit of confusion tugging the corners of his lips down. "Shouldn't we go to them?"

"No, we need to make sure they know they are beneath us this year," Marian whispers before stepping away from Kaz as Aberforth gets closer, making her expression hard as she gives him a look over and puts her hands on her hips. "So, you're Aberforth, the rogue volunteer."

"Yes, I am. And it's just Abel," the boy from Four answers without letting it show too much that her statement bothers him. "But I would have been chosen if it hadn't been for the injury."

"And I _was_ chosen," Rodrick says from behind her and Marian glances back over her shoulder, an eyebrow raised in questioning as the pair from One joins them.

"Ah, is this going to become a pissing contest?" Marian asks them, letting out an amused laugh as she makes eye contact with Nativity, who discretely rolls her eyes at the two boys clearly trying to impress. At least she knows one person that will be on her side.

"Why would we have a pissing contest?" Kaz asks Marian in confusion. "What would that even accomplish aside from getting us in trouble for having our dicks out?"

Nativity coughs and mutters under her breath, "Bet I'd have the largest dick."

Marian raises an eyebrow at Nativity's comment and the girl just winks at her, letting her know she heard correctly. Marian quickly looks away, feeling her cheeks heat up a little at the girl's flirting. "Anyways," Marian says loudly, getting the boys to stop puffing up their chests and making a stupid display of trying to show off. "I'm Marian, and this here is Kaz."

Kaz stands up at the sound of his name and put on his bravest face, making Marian a bit proud of him before she quickly reminds herself that she cannot get attached to him. "I would like to be the leader of the career pack."

Marian glares down the two pairs, daring them to challenge Kaz. Rodrick looks like he wants to challenge this, while Nativity nods her head, but shares a look with Marian that makes her think the girl from One knows who is really in charge. Orin just looks plain bored and like ze would rather be somewhere else, but Abel nods his head respectfully, "I have no place to be questioning who will be the leader of the pack or to make any claims for leadership. I would just like to ask that you consider having me as an ally."

"Of cou -"

"We will consider it," Marian says quickly over Kaz, giving him a look about him about to agree to them as allies without even seeing what they can do. She knows they'll take them, but why not let them prove themselves a bit? "It's smart to take things day by day. We'll train tomorrow, see how we all mesh together. Make sure the pack will be solid."

"I'm not here to be friends, but I'm not here to cause trouble in the pack," Rodrick crosses his arms at this statement, bringing Marian's focus over to him. She studies him closely, knowing she will always be keeping an eye on him in the arena. Anyone that is willing to murder before all of this begins is not someone she wants to have her back turned to.

"None of us are here to be friends," Marian answers with a shrug, getting a nod of agreement from Kaz. "We all came here to do the same thing."

The group falls quiet at this statement, all of them knowing what that thing is: winning the Hunger Games. And their biggest opponents are all standing right next to each other. Marian stands up taller, puffing out her chest a little and crossing her arms to show off her muscles, noticing the way the others are all looking over each other and assessing who is the biggest threat. Marian has her answer, but she isn't going to overlook any of them just because they _seem_ weaker. That's exactly what people have done to her for years and she's here to prove them all wrong.

No fucking way is Marian letting this group win over her. She'll keep her enemies right in her sights.

* * *

_Grey Pendleton, 17, District Eight_

Grey studies all of the tributes around him from the top of his chariot, even though he has his sights set on specific tributes. In the back, the pair from Eleven is quiet as Grant goes off on his own, while Jenny looks around at the other tributes for a minute, before following Grant towards the elevator. Sissel has jumped off of the District Ten chariot to keep striking poses in his bird costume, clearly in his element and getting a few questionable looks from nearby tributes. Meanwhile, Ally is on her way towards the District Seven chariot, where the pair is talking quietly and seemingly cracking jokes with each other. The District Nine pair is also quietly chatting with themselves, Asha looking around at some of the other tributes, but she nervously glances away when she sees Grey looking her way.

Grey turns his focus to the chariots ahead of them, knowing that's where his future allies are. Not the careers, obviously he's not wasting his time with those meatheads. And not District Six either, where Iroha is carefully getting down from her chariot and Dresden is looking around at the others as he makes his way to the elevator.

Two tributes stood out to Grey from when he first saw the Reapings, two tributes who reminded him in different ways of Quill. Artem for the obvious similarities to Quill in terms of their physical disabilities, and Sasha, who seems stubborn and in need of guidance, just like Quill. And as Grey assesses his options, he knows who he wants to go to first – but he'll certainly try to talk to both of them now.

By the time they enter the arena, Grey will have both of them as his allies.

Gwenith stumbles out of the chariot next to him and cries out as she catches herself on the chariot, but her feet stumble. Grey shakes his head for a moment before he turns back to her, giving her a concerned look. "Are you okay? You could have asked for me to help you down."

"I'll be fine," Gwenith mumbles to herself as she shakes out her ankle, making her wings flap a little behind her from her movement.

"Good, but next time please ask me for help," Grey tells her, shaking his head a little as he still continues to look at her in concern. "I can't have my ally injuring herself before we even get into the arena. Now, let's go get some more allies. You really shouldn't walk on your ankle right now in case it's sprained so how about you sit on the chariot while I go talk to people?"

"Okay," Gwenith mutters in response, surprising Grey by not protesting him, so he grins at her and gives her a reassuring pat on the shoulder before heading off to find his first ally.

As Grey gets close to the District Five chariot, he finds his future ally struggling to get out of it and his partner already gone. "Would you like a hand?" Grey calls out to Artem, who freezes in his squirming around of trying to undo the buckles holding him in.

Artem's shoulders sag in defeat and he barely turns his head to look over at Grey, but it's enough for him to see that the boy didn't want to have to ask for help, even if he needs it. "I suppose…" Artem says quietly which is enough for Grey to jump up into the chariot to help him. Artem holds up his arm, trying to crack a smile as he makes a joke, but his heart clearly isn't into it, "I do only have one hand, after all, so a second hand would be nice."

Grey makes quick work of the buckles and Artem stands up, picking up his cane to steady himself. "Why didn't you ask for help?"

Artem frowns at this as he looks down at the drop down from the chariot, letting out a sigh as he lowers himself to get down on his own. "My fathers raised me to be independent and do things on my own. And I guess I figured no one would want to help out their competition here, even though I'm obviously just cannon fodder…"

"Don't say that, you seem capable!" Grey reassures Artem as he jumps down easily from the chariot, landing next to Artem and giving him his confident smile. "There's nothing wrong with needing a hand, especially when we're going into the Hunger Games. No one wants to be alone in that arena."

Artem begins to scowl at this and Grey keeps his smile on, knowing that he can win over Artem. "Why are you bothering with me then? You volunteered…go be allies with one of the capable tributes."

"You know, my cousin is like you. She's strong and capable, despite what happened, but she still needs my help," Grey tells Artem, letting himself frown sadly as he thinks about Quill, hoping it will get Artem to relate to him. "I always do my best to help her out after the accident that took her arm but…she needs more than I can give her now. That's why I volunteered, to help her live her best life. And so when I saw you, I was reminded of her and wanted to help. But if you don't want to be allies, that's okay…" Grey lets out a loud, sad sigh as he turns to walk away from Artem, taking a couple slow steps as he waits for him to stop him…

"Wait!"

Grey lets a smug smile form on his face for a second before he fixes his frown once more as he turns to look over his shoulder at Artem. "Yes?"

Artem hesitates for a moment, biting his lip as he mulls over his thoughts and glances around at the tributes nearby. "I didn't expect anyone to actually want an ally like me… Sorry for being brash. I…yeah, I'd like to be allies."

Grey turns around fully at this, flashing Artem with his smile that always charms all the parents of the kids he babysits. "Oh that's great, Artem. Really, I'm excited you see how I can help you out in the arena. You'll fit in great in our alliance and-"

A shriek cuts him off and has everyone turning over to the elevators to find the careers standing near the door, Rodrick holding a hand to his chest in fear as he glares at Sissel standing nearby, continuing to act like a bird. "Mother fucker, I hate birds of prey," Rodrick grumbles loudly, glaring around the room to make sure the other tributes know it's because of the costume, not the scrawny kid from Ten. The two girls are trying to hold back their laughter as Rodrick pushes past them into the elevator, turning to point back at Sissel. "Stay away from me, asshole. You'll regret it in the arena."

The rest of the careers pile in with him and Sissel relaxes his arms as the doors shut, tilting his head slightly as he studies them, and when he turns to glance around at the tributes, there's a cunning look in his eyes that has Grey moving to stand defensively in front of Artem.

Grey looks around more carefully at the other tributes still around, realizing he has to be more careful with studying this group of tributes here. Who else is hiding secrets of their capabilities like Grey is? All he knows is he won't let them get near his allies.

Unless, of course, he needs to make an example.

* * *

**We love a good theme for the chariots! Lisia truly is That Bitch when it comes to being Head Gamemaker, I love how dramatic she is. The chariot outfits are always a fun time for me to design them so I enjoyed this a bunch! But what could this theme mean, hmm? *thinking emoji* **

**And of course we had to have some tribute interactions! How much do you think the careers will get along? And how awful will Grey be? Stay tuned to find out what happens next in Legacy XD**

**RQ #15:** What costume was your favorite?

**That's all I have to say for this chapter, so time for an updated alliance list!**

\- Pissing Contest Time (Rodrick, Tiv, Marian, Kaz, Abel, Orin)

\- The Sassy Pre-Teens (TM) and Mom (Pascal, Betula, Ally)

\- The Babysitter Club (Grey, Gwenith, Artem)

\- Good to have backup, am I right? (Asha, Laine)

**Alrighty, see you all next week with Training Day One where we check in with Asha and Iroha!**


	20. Training Day 1

**Chapter 16:**

_Asha Kader, 18, District Nine_

"You may begin."

Asha stays back as she watches the careers head off first, the two girls from One and Two chatting as they head off to the weapons while their District partners are silent as they head to their weapons of choice. The boy from Four lags behind them, slowed by his braces, yet he has a determination in his shoulders as he heads over to the large swimming pool, while his District partner seems to be avoiding conversation with the rest of the pack, choosing to work alone for the time being.

Soon the other tributes being to find their place as Asha slowly begins walking towards the stations, Laine by her side and seemingly just as confused and unsure of where to begin. A few other tributes have decided to try to learn some weapons, daring to be near the careers. Margaery from Five and Grant from Eleven have both gone over to the knife station and Asha watches them for a moment before her gaze is drawn over to some of the other weapons nearby, one taunting her and calling out to Slash…

_No…Slash isn't her. Asha is here, not Slash…_

"How about we start at some of the survival stations?" Laine finally asks her and Asha just nods her head, going along with the suggestion because she's afraid of the desire building in her to go over to the barbed whips…

Laine keeps up a friendly conversation with her as they sit down at the camouflage station, yet Asha can barely focus on what he's saying, her mind focused instead on the one skill she already knows that can be applied towards winning.

"_Do it,"_ Slash whispers in her mind, playing the sound of the cracking whip, the sound of her clients crying out first in pain and then in pleasure…

Asha bites her lip nervously, shaking her head as she tries to focus on the camouflage. This is what she should be putting her effort into, not fulfilling the deep want in her to feel the whip in her hand, the weight of it giving her a power rush and the crack of it on skin making a smirk form on her lips.

"Excuse me," Asha says suddenly, cutting off her District partner midsentence as she stands up quickly and walks away from him, taking deep breaths as she tries to calm her racing heart. "Fuck," Asha mutters under her breath as she keeps walking away from people, focusing so much on just getting away from her thoughts that her subconscious leads her right to the station she was trying to stay away from.

"Hi there," the trainer says as he approaches Asha, amused smile on his face at the prospect of her attempting to use the whips. "Would you like me to demonstrate how you use this weapon?"

Asha blinks a few times, trying to focus on his words and feeling embarrassed for a second that he is judging her, thinking she's weak and unable to use the whip. _She'll show him._ Asha puts her shoulders back as she steps up to the rack of whips, running a hand over them slowly, picturing a client on their knees in front of her, begging her not to hurt them. "I don't need help," Slash tells him as she picks one of the whips, finding it fitting comfortably into her hand. She eyes out the barbed tips of the whip as she steps up to the line several feet away from the dummy, a smirk slowly forming on her lips.

"Stomach," Slash says before lashing out with the whip, a crack sounding in the training center as she hits exactly where she said. "Head. Shoulder. _Dick,_" the last one has Slash letting out a cackle as the whip strikes precisely where she said, blood appearing on the dummy from the spots she struck. She stands still for a moment, studying her work, a smirk of satisfaction on her lips as she imagines a client – _no_, a tribute – being the one that she hit with the whip, bleeding out in front of her.

"I stand corrected," the trainer says as he approaches her, studying the dummy and letting out a whistle. "Would not want to be the one you hit in the dick."

"Some don't complain about it," Slash answers and when the trainer gives her a confused look, Asha blinks a few times, realizing what she is doing. No, she shouldn't be feeling this rush of power from using the whip on a dummy while imagining it's a tribute. She shouldn't be enjoying the praise from the trainer. "I need to go," Asha says quietly as she shoves the whip into the trainer's hands and quickly gets away from there, trying to ignore the looks some of the careers are giving her.

_Damn it, Asha, way to put a target on your back all because you couldn't stay weak._

_But you liked the power, you liked being Slash._

Asha can feel an anger in her that she needs to let out, anger that she can't fight off this need for power. She needs to do _something_ to get it out before it just festers in her chest and Slash comes out again. So she storms over to the weights, needing to do something that will make her feel like she's accomplishing something. She doesn't even care that the crazy bird boy is there, she'll just ignore him.

"Kinky weapon of choice," Sissel says to her as she sits down in front of one of the weights, watching her as he continues to silently lift more weight than one would expect from the scrawny boy.

Asha winces at the comment, turning her face away from Sissel for a moment, before realizing she has nothing to be ashamed about for using a whip and using it _well_. She meets his gaze, staring down the boy as she puts her hands on her hips and her shoulders back, knowing it shows off her chest proudly. "At least I have a weapon of choice, bird boy. What do you have? I haven't seen you at the weapons. And don't you dare even think for a second that I'm some sexual object for you to stare at."

"Good for you, I'm ace as fuck," Sissel answers with a roll of his eyes, not stopping from his weight lifting as he holds the weight out to the side at 90 degrees for an extended time. Asha relaxes a little at his response – albeit a bit offended at his tone – knowing he isn't just talking to her because of Slash. "As for a weapon, well…" Sissel glances over at the Gamemakers before answering, "I have something in mind that requires their approval. If not, I've been making animal traps for years. Can't be too different for humans. But I am aware I need someone with weapon skills."

Asha sighs as she sits down at one of the benches near him, her rush of energy draining from her and leaving her confused and conflicted on what to do. "That whip is the only thing I know how to do," Asha says quietly, putting her head down in shame that she is useless. She has no other skills to offer anyone, no skills to keep her alive. "I can't find food, I don't know how to build shelters, I'm…worthless."

Sissel sets down his weight loudly, bringing Asha's gaze up to him as he tilts his head to the side, studying her for a long moment before finally giving a noncommittal shrug. "I don't think the weapon skill is worthless."

"Are you proposing an alliance?" Asha asks him, surprised that someone is even considering taking her as an ally. Part of her is sure Laine is only working with her until he finds someone better.

Sissel just gives another noncommittal shrug as he stretches out his arms, still staring down at her with his head tilted to the side as he studies her. "You're the one that said it first."

* * *

_Iroha Kinoshita, 18, District Six_

Iroha isn't a dumbass. She can recognize the signs of when someone is keeping an eye on her, having spent years under the watchful and oppressive gaze of Kayden. And now in the Capitol, training for the Games, her nerves are on edge and she's hyperaware of everyone.

But she thinks anyone would start to notice when a tribute keeps showing up at the same stations that they are going to.

Iroha thought it was just coincidence after the first two times it happened. After all, she's been at the survival stations. Lots of the tributes are going to these stations and she's had some conversations with some of them, seeing who might be a good ally for her. Dresden has ended up at some of the stations with her and while the conversation is polite, they're certainly not going to be friends. At least he's a bit more cordial than Samis. The boy from Three immediately shut down any possibility of conversation and left, clearly refusing to have any allies.

She's kept her distance from that Grey from Eight and the tributes he's put his sights on. She saw the signs in him, heard the comments, and knows he is the _last_ person Iroha wants to be near. A part of her pities Gwenith and Artem, knowing they fell for his honeyed words, and part of her wants to give a warning to Sasha to keep refusing him, but then she reminds herself that she is in the Games and she cannot be wanting to protect these tributes.

That's why she's stayed far away from the pair from Seven, joined by Ally from Ten rather quickly. They're all too young, too much like children and remind her of her own baby back home. Ally seems to be the one in the alliance doing the most effort to get them training, dragging Pascal and Betula around to most of the stations, the pair from Seven mostly goofing off and cracking morbid jokes at each other, clearly accepting their inevitable doom.

But when Iroha went to one of the more obscure stations and the tribute followed her there, she realized there's no way it wasn't just coincidence.

So now, at the fourth station she has ended up with the same tribute at today, Iroha finally decides it's time to let some of her meek demeanor drop and talk to the woman. "Hello again," Iroha says pleasantly with a small smile, glancing up a little bit from her work on building a snare that could be used on tributes.

The girl from Eleven looks a little surprised at first at Iroha speaking up, but soon smiles at her pleasantly. "Hi, I'm Jenny," she says politely as she holds out her hand to Iroha. "I guess I should introduce myself since we've wound up working at the same stations together quite a bit today!"

Iroha nods her head slowly as she takes Jenny's hand, both of them firmly grasping the other. "Iroha," she answers quietly, trying to study Jenny and figure out just why this woman from Eleven has been following her around today. Does she trust the friendly and warm smile? Of course not, but Iroha doesn't trust anyone but herself. And if for some reason Jenny wants to be allies with the pregnant woman, Iroha won't turn her down. She doesn't exactly have options lined up.

"You familiar with traps at all?" Jenny asks as she nods her head down at the pitiful attempt Iroha has been making.

"Not at all," Iroha answers with a chuckle, hoping that keeping up a friendly attitude will keep Jenny around. She could use someone to take the fall for her instead. And if Jenny is willing to ally with a pregnant woman, then she surely must be gullible and naïve. But the smile soon fades from her face at a kick from the baby and she curses under her breath in pain. "Damn it."

Jenny's smile also drops as Iroha puts her hand on her stomach, rubbing the spot in pain. But in her eyes, Iroha can see her own bit of pain there. "Are they doing anything about your baby?" Jenny asks her quietly, leaning in closer as she looks over at the Gamemakers discretely, not wanting them hearing the bit of anger in her voice. "If not…" Jenny just shakes her head, letting Iroha know just what she thinks. But when Jenny's hands start absentmindedly moving towards her stomach and she stops herself, Iroha raises an eyebrow as she studies her, but soon relaxes her face into a sad frown when Jenny looks her way.

Interesting. No wonder Jenny has been talking to her.

"Yeah I've been doing everything I can to get them to do something," Iroha finally answers her quietly, turning back to looking down at her trap to hide the look in her eye as she figures out how to keep Jenny in an alliance – assuming she wants one. "Bee and the mentors have been talking to the Capitol a lot and they agreed to deliver the baby before the Games, thankfully. So I won't be _as_ much of a liability in the arena."

Iroha glances over to see Jenny nodding her head at this, looking pained at the topic. "That's good. I'm glad your baby will get to live. But…what will happen if you don't win? Do they have a parent to go to?"

Iroha can't help the fear and anger flashing on her face at just the thought of her baby going to Kayden. She _cannot_ let that happen…and she has to get Noah out of that situation. If Iroha doesn't win…fuck, what will happen to her children? She has to say something, but who can she trust with the knowledge of what Kayden has done to her? Iroha carefully chooses her words, not wanting to let Jenny in on all her dark secrets, knowing someone could use it against her. "I think…it would be better for them to stay with me than to go to their father."

Jenny lets out a 'hmm' at this and then stays quiet, working on her trap in silence. Iroha glances over at her, trying to figure out what she could be thinking, but the girl keeps her face a blank mask. It's clearly she's deep in thought, but just like Iroha, she's not exactly opening up. "Well let's hope they have someone to care for them."

"Indeed," Iroha answers, knowing she's going to do _everything_ possible to be that person for them. Even if it means killing her own ally or sacrificing them to get away from a threat. And her gut isn't giving her any immediate red flags as she sits with Jenny, telling her that she can work with Jenny, use her to get her farther in the Games. "You know…if you're willing to work with a mother desperately trying to win for her baby…"

"I know a bit about that," Jenny mutters under her breath, surprising Iroha a bit, but Jenny turns to look at her, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah, I think maybe we could work together."

It's not a yes for sure, but really, Iroha doesn't blame Jenny not agreeing immediately. After all, they just started talking to each other and Iroha has probably the biggest trust issues around. Jenny is not at all who Iroha was aiming to have as an ally…but she isn't going to complain. After all, better to have an ally than no one at all, and she didn't even have to go out of her way to find one.

* * *

**And there we have training day one! I always love the training chapters and getting to set up the alliances! And this one had alliances form that I've had planned for a long time now - Jenny and Iroha has been an idea since I first saw their forms and Sissel and Asha was also an early idea. How well will these new alliances work together? Guess you'll all find out the answer to that sooner or later lol, I already know and I'm excited for arena plans I have.**

**Next chapter we'll check in with Abel and Sasha for training day two! That will be up next Monday because the stockpile is still going strong! At the time of posting this, the next thing to write is the bloodbath so I anticipate having that done before the next update :3 But of course, we still have a lot of time before that chapter will be up so don't start panicking yet. Okay it's actually only four more updates and a little over a month away, so maybe start worrying a bit.**

**RQ #16:** Who would you pick as an ally in this group of tributes?

**And how about an updated alliance list:**

\- Pissing Contest Time (Rodrick, Tiv, Marian, Kaz, Abel, Orin)

\- The Sassy Pre-Teens (TM) and Mom (Pascal, Betula, Ally)

\- The Babysitter Club (Grey, Gwenith, Artem)

\- An ornithologist, a dominatrix, and a farm boy walk into a bar... (Asha, Laine, Sissel)

\- Can't get manipulated if you manipulate them first (Iroha, Jenny)

\- Loners (Samis, Sasha, Margaery, Dresden, Grant)

**Okay I will see you next Monday with the rest of training! And in the meantime, keep an eye out for this Friday because I will be posting the first prologue for Renegades!**


	21. Training Day 2

**Chapter 17:**

_Aberforth 'Abel' Barringer, 18, District Four_

Abel has been doing his best to keep a clear head in training, focusing on building up the skills that have been neglected a bit in the past two years after his accident. He knows his weakness is his lower body and it would be foolish to not work on that now.

It's hard not to compare himself to the other careers when they have been making no effort to hide their skills. Marian has been watching Rodrick, Kaz, and Abel as they work, before putting in even more effort at whatever station she's at, this time destroying dummies with a flail. Seriously, he would not want to be at the end of that flail…seeing the way that spiked ball is destroying dummies, he doesn't even want to imagine what that will do to a tribute.

Kaz has surprised him the most – despite making every effort to make sure the careers know he is the leader and deserves to be it, but Marian might think otherwise – he's spent a significant amount of time at some of the survival stations. But he still has kept up with his spear skills and Abel knows he'll be lethal and the other tributes have seen it.

Rodrick took the time with tridents yesterday, fully establishing himself and showing the others that he can most certainly kill again, but now he alternates between his weapon of choice and survival stations. He sits with confidence, knowing he has shown what he can do and feeling no shame in working on survival skills.

Tiv has spent her time between stations with Marian, chatting pleasantly with the girl from Two, and at the bow and arrows, showing off her lethal ability at a distance. Abel will admit it has put him a bit on edge seeing her skill, knowing he prefers fighting close range. If she were to turn on him…

Not even his District partner has kept up a conversation with him, but Abel has picked up on the fact that Orin really just prefers to be alone. Sure, Orin will give polite, if not blunt, responses when the careers talk to zim, but ze have preferred to work alone, silently killing dummies with knives, slicing them up.

And where has that left Abel? Giving a poor attempt at running with his stiff legs and not even being able to press half of the weight he can with his upper body. His weapon form is sloppy, his movements with the knives slow compared to him in his peak. He knows they see it. He can see the way Rodrick stares at him with that cold look in his eyes, or the way Marian watches and turns to make a comment to Tiv.

It's clear that Abel is the odd man out of the alliance… Even Rodrick with his criminal past is more accepted by the others than he is, all because Abel doesn't have legs that work as well as the others. And he hates the pit of envy that has been forming deep in him towards his allies, along with resentment that they don't think he is at the same level as them.

Can he really do this? Can he really defeat these people that are his allies and have been consistently training up until the day they volunteered while he has been out for two years? Even Rodrick is keeping up with the others after being in prison for a time… Was volunteering a mistake?

_No, it wasn't. _This has been his dream for as long as he can remember and he is going to do it. Abel needs to clear his head and there's one sure way to do that.

His steps are slow as he starts heading in the direction of the pool, feeling the soreness of working his muscles more in the last two days than he has in the last two years. But it's a good burn in his muscles, reminding him of days long past of being in training, working his body to its limit. But unlike then, Abel doesn't have stupid pride clouding his vision and making him feel invincible. He knows fully well that he is not invincible – his legs are a constant reminder.

A trainer sits by the pool, clearly bored by the lack of tributes swimming, but she looks up at Abel's approach. He gives her a respectful smile before diving right into the pool, not bothering to change into something else. He knows their outfits won't hold water for long. The cool rush of water over his head immediately helps settle the worries in him and Abel stays under for as long as he can, swimming around in the pool and finally feeling like he is doing something that he is truly good at. The water has always brought peace to him and today is no exception, even if it's just a pool and not the ocean.

Abel finally comes up for breath and starts doing laps down the long length of the pool, focusing on his strokes and breathing to steady his mind. This is more than just proving to himself that he can do this, that he can do whatever he sets his mind out to do… He can show the whole country not to look down on people like him – or even Sasha and Artem – and they are still just as capable as the others.

Abel pulls himself out of the pool, shaking the water out of his hair as he picks up a towel and dries himself off, sitting down to take care with his braces. He glances over at the Gamemakers sitting high above them, noticing a few of them looking in his direction curiously, especially the young one next to the Head Gamemaker. He hasn't stopped watched Abel, Sasha, and Artem the whole time. The Gamemakers are the ones he needs to prove himself to, the ones that can control what fate he has in that arena… He has to show them that he is just like the other careers.

Abel glances around the training center, finding his allies easily scattered around the room. A plan forms in his head – a somewhat dumb plan, he can admit that – but a plan nonetheless to show off his skills as well as make sure the others know the career pack is going to be united and a threat. Because right now, they've barely spent time together in training except at lunch, and even then, they weren't talking much. Abel needs to get them friendly with him because that will make it a little less likely that they will turn on him first when things go south – after all, who would want to attack their friend over someone they barely know?

"Hey Kaz!"

The boy from Two looks up at the sound of his name and glances around the room until he sees Abel waving for him to come over. Kaz contemplates for a few seconds before heading over to Abel as he finishes up drying off. He stands up as Kaz approaches, putting the towel around his neck to catch any water dripping down from his hair and smiles at his ally. "Hey Kaz, I have an idea."

Kaz nods his head, struggling to meet Abel's gaze as he asks, "What is it?"

"How about we have a little friendly competition with our allies?"

* * *

_Sasha Kolster, 16, District Three_

Why can't he just let her stubbornly stay on her own and accept her impending doom in peace? God, he's even worse than her mother has been over the last few months and Sasha really didn't think that was even possible.

She's _finally_ gotten a break from his insistent pestering and claims that she needs his help after snapping at Grey over lunch. But like, she didn't need someone to carry her tray of food for her! And it's safe to say that she's a bit stressed out and on edge from the whole death match they're about to be thrown into. So yeah, maybe she shouldn't have snapped and probably made an enemy out of him – based on the way he's currently sulking as he hovers over his two allies – but maybe he should have just taken her first answer of no. She was mad that the careers had taken Aberforth and also…as terrible as it is, a part of her doesn't want to talk to Artem, afraid that being near someone like her is just going to make her be unable to keep pretending that there's nothing wrong with her…

No, it's not her fault for snapping at Grey.

"Who does he even think he is?" Sasha asks Samis in disbelief, her District partner just sitting there quietly as she rants to him, focusing on the trap he's building. "Like dude, get over it, we're about to go into the Games! Why does he even want to get close to people right now? All but one of us is going to be dead soon, you know?"

Samis nods his head in agreement at this, glancing up briefly at Sasha before turning back down to his trap, staying silent. Sasha shakes her head at this, letting out a loud sigh before slumping over, throwing down the supplies she was using in vain to make a trap. "Was it wrong to snap at him? I was just so frustrated because I want to be alone to simmer in all of my bitterness…"

Sasha glances over at Grey and his allies for a moment, finding Grey looking in her direction and frowning, just so much disappointment in his eyes. She quickly turns away, unsure of the pit forming in her stomach at the look. She was expecting anger over her outburst, not…disappointment.

_Fuck, Sasha, stop._

"It's fine," Sasha says in a huff, grumpily picking up her supplies to try to get back to building her trap. "He's allowed to be sad or whatever. I'm not obligated to say yes to the first person who asks me to be their ally."

She says that like she's had plenty of options to be her ally. Grey's the only one that has asked her…and probably will be the only one. She thought she wanted to be alone, depend on only herself and stubbornly show she can still do it…but shit, she's scared at the thought of actually being alone in the arena…

"Do you mind if I join you?"

Sasha glances up at the person standing next to her and starts scowling, quickly turning her head back down to her work so he doesn't see it. "Did Grey send you over to make me feel bad?"

"Actually, no," Artem responds, still standing next to her and waiting for her to say yes or no to him joining. "I suggested I come over at talk to you."

"Oh," Sasha says quietly, unsure how she feels about Artem wanting to come talk to her. She tries to look to Samis, but her District partner is keeping his head down – but his body is turned to them, clearly listening. Sasha sighs and gestures to the station, "I'm not the training police, you can go wherever you want. And I'm not going to run away, that requires more effort than I feel like exerting right now. Sorry, no one legged races ahead."

Artem lets out a snort of laughter at her joke and Sasha looks over at him curiously as he sits down next to her with much more grace than she does. Envy flares up in her that he can move so much better than she can with her disability, even when he has an amputated leg. "How are you doing with all of this?"

Sasha throws down her supplies again in frustration, the question making her eyes well up from tears of fear and anger that she can't just be like everyone else and she's almost guaranteed doomed. "I just want to be able to do this on my own."

"But you can't…" Artem says quietly and Sasha starts to glare at him for telling her flat out that she can't, but stops when she sees the pain on his face reflecting what she's been feeling. "I've been trying my whole life to do things on my own. I get it, it's tough asking for help…but sometimes, there's nothing wrong with asking."

"Are you telling me that or telling yourself?" Sasha asks him, trying to avoid answering him. She…doesn't know how she feels about asking for help. It just…feels like she's giving up.

"Both, I suppose," Artem gives a shrug at her. He lets out a small sigh and shakes his head at himself before meeting Sasha's gaze, trying to give her a small smile. "You should give him a chance," Artem tells her quietly and Sasha lets out a 'hmph' at that. "I'm serious…he's being genuine."

"Sorry, I can't quite believe that someone who volunteered would be _that_ selfless to ally with tributes like us," Sasha shakes her head at Artem. "What is he going to do next, make an alliance of all the youngest kids and be their babysitter?"

"I don't think he will," Artem tells her, uncertainty in his voice as they look over the trio of younger tributes.

"Gwenith makes sense because they're District partners," Sasha points out. "But us? Why us?"

"Because he volunteered to help his cousin who is like us," Artem answers, starting to make Sasha feel like a real ass if Grey was being genuine with wanting to ally with her… "Just give it a thought, okay?"

"I suppose," Sasha grumbles as Artem slowly stands up and she sits quietly, watching him head back over to Grey who looks so happy at his ally's return.

"It's a bad idea," Samis finally speaks up and Sasha looks over at him curiously, finding him shaking his head at her. "Any alliance in the Games is a bad idea. It doesn't take much to get attached to them. That's why I'm staying alone and you should too."

Sasha sighs at this, wishing she had the liberty to do that. But she can't…her legs don't work like Samis' legs. Even Aberforth with his leg braces can move better than her… "I don't know if staying alone is an option for me."

* * *

**And we have the second day of training with our expected check in with the career alliance, as well as some insight into just what Grey is up to! So a lot of people are thinking the careers are shaky this year and you're absolutely right lol. Abel sees that too and is trying to do something about it XD and of course, Sasha is stubbornly trying to do things on her own, but we'll see how long that lasts for. **

**We're going to be kicking it into high gear with updates for the next couple weeks to get through the remainder of the pre-Games in-between the prologues for Renegades! The schedule is on my profile but we'll have two updates this week, regularly scheduled update next Monday, the Night Before chapter will be a Friday, and then there will be a two week respite before the bloodbath! Yeah, the bloodbath is approaching very soon with just three more chapters to go (wild) and just about a month away - June 19th! I have that written now which unfortunately means I can't stockpile more of this story because of sponsorship, but good thing it's just a month to go XD **

**As mentioned above, Renegades, the sequel to Senseless, is now up! Subs are open until June 24th for tributes and this is a full SYOT with the rare inclusion of the Capitol! So if you're interested in that, definitely check it out and consider submitting :)**

**And updated alliance list:**

\- Pissing Contest Time (Rodrick, Tiv, Marian, Kaz, Abel, Orin)

\- The Sassy Pre-Teens (TM) and Mom (Pascal, Betula, Ally)

\- The Babysitter Club (Grey, Gwenith, Artem)

\- An ornithologist, a dominatrix, and a farm boy walk into a bar... (Asha, Laine, Sissel)

\- Can't get manipulated if you manipulate them first (Iroha, Jenny)

\- Don't question it, it's a thing (Margaery, Dresden)

\- Loners (Samis, Sasha, Grant)

**RQ #17: **Last chapter I asked who you would most want to ally with, but let's ask this week the opposite: which tribute would you not want to touch with a ten foot pole? XD

**Alrighty, that's all I have to say this chapter! I will see you on Friday for the Private Sessions/Scores with Lisia and Jenny, and let me just say that Lisia has...quite the plan in store for this tributes. See you then!**


	22. Private Sessions: Reveal Yourself

**A/N: Trigger warning for this chapter.**

* * *

**Chapter 18:**

_Lisia Arune, Head Gamemaker_

Lisia has been waiting for the private sessions ever since she first developed the idea for it this year, which is a stark difference from how she normally feels about sitting through 22 tributes trying their best to prove what they can do to her. But this year is different…the tributes won't be proving their survival skills to her.

They will be proving their worth outside of the arena.

Seraphim has also been excited about the private sessions, but Lisia suspects it's just his curiosity to see the truth serum in action. And so the pair sit side by side at a table, the only thing in the training center, along with a single science officer with a tray of 22 syringes, one for each tribute. Lisia can't wait to see how each one reacts to the sight of them, and also what information they will reveal to her, information that they can't learn from their background check.

Four questions. That is all Lisia will ask them. The best thing they've ever done. The _worst_ thing they've ever done. Why they want to win. And why they _deserve_ to win. No doubt the tributes will be mad at having to reveal their darkest secrets, but in her final arena, it is necessary.

"Let's begin," Lisia calls out and the first tribute is brought in.

Rodrick pauses as he enters the room and sees them, and Lisia gestures for him to approach. He sits down hesitantly, staring at the science officer approaching with a syringe. "What's going on?" He asks as he flinches away from them.

"Please sit still or we will restrain you," Lisia tells him and Rodrick stills, letting the science officer inject him, clearly not wanting to be in restraints now that he has freedom. "Truth serum that will last for approximately 30 minutes. Now, we have some questions to ask you.

And so begins the most intriguing set of interviews Lisia has ever seen. She didn't know what to expect from the tributes…but not this.

Rodrick reveals against his will his mother's influence on him and her encouraging him to murder as training for the Games, along with the guilt he feels and tries to repress. How he won't hesitate to kill again in the arena. Lisia makes careful note of this and to keep an eye on him in the arena in case he shows signs of continuing his murderous habit outside of the arena.

Nativity looks so innocent after Rodrick's confessions, telling Lisia about her supportive family that has helped her every step of the way with her transition, how she wants to make her own narrative and not let people push their own narrative on her. She shows off a bit of arrogance coupled with a little bit of being a ditz, but doesn't give Lisia any reason to be concerned for her. She's in the Games for good reasons compared to her District partner.

Kaz enters the room, keeping his shoulders back and looking ready to prove himself, yet when he sees the different set up, he begins to falter as his plan for the private session is not what he needs. Lisia asks her questions calmly, learning that the boy has a great passion for training, along with the game Dungeons and Dragons. He has had the goal of leading the career pack for years, wanting to show people that he is just like everyone else and is not an oddball, so he is proud to be the leader this year. He leaves her with nothing bad, showing how he is a very good boy and probably shouldn't be in the Hunger Games.

Marian, on the other hand, shows Lisia quickly that she is not as good of a person as Kaz is. With the truth serum, Marian is forced to reveal the ways she backstabbed and subtly sabotaged people in training to make sure she was the one on top, always fighting against the people telling her she's not as good as the boys. She reveals her biggest regret is not getting her younger sister away from their parents, but will do anything to save her from the fate she escaped.

Samis comes in with a face full of distrust towards the Gamemakers, but smartly doesn't protest them and their questions. He reveals why he has chosen not to have allies, having deep trust issues in people from his father walking out on him when he was thirteen, just two years after his mother was diagnosed with early dementia. And now he's been forced to work every day to take care of his mother and can't afford getting attached to anyone in the arena.

Sasha enters slowly, her cane making soft noise on the ground as she approaches them. Sasha tries to hold back her sass as she answers Lisia's questions, but it slips through as she brings up her mother's delay in getting her looked at and belief that Sasha had been on drugs, not actually injured, and how it contributed to her outcome. But also how she feels guilty for the way she's treated her mother, knowing she's done so much despite Sasha constantly trying to push her away.

Aberforth keeps his shoulders back and a smile on his face, respectfully greeting Lisia and Seraphim as he holds back his confusion. He tells them about his accident in training that nearly destroyed him, but how he persevered and recovered, determined to accomplish his life long dream. But he reveals a deep jealousy in him towards everyone with fully functioning legs, something he wishes he didn't have, yet it's still there, especially towards his allies.

Orin finally is forced to talk, something Lisia has seen zim do very little of during training. Ze are silent for a long time as ze fight against the truth serum, but eventually ze answer, revealing how zir parents are both dentists and ze enjoy watching them inflict pain on their patients and how over the years, ze have also done this, and it is why ze ultimately volunteered. Ze clearly didn't want to reveal this information to Lisia, but silently ask if ze could have dentist tools in the cornucopia to fight with.

Artem slowly approaches them, keeping his head low as he takes a seat. The young boy seems so resigned with the world, even though he has gotten a little bit of hope in the last couple of days due to his new ally Grey. But he reveals that in the last year, he's been struggling with the constant bullying from how he looks, pushed almost to self-harm, but he couldn't do it knowing how much it would disappoint his fathers and being unable to do that to them.

Margaery enters the room looking the part of a sweet, scared innocent girl, but once the truth serum is administered, Lisia learns how that is all just an act. Her face drops to a blank expression as she is forced to tell all about her family of con-artists, seemingly not bothered that she is revealing their criminal behavior. But she reveals how she has never felt empathy or guilt for the things she has done, including how she is a pathological liar and loves to manipulate people – including her ability to cry on demand.

Dresden comes in with an attitude as if he's better than the other tributes, but it's quickly revealed under the truth serum that it comes from insecurity that he'll never make his father proud of him. And even though he fights it, he eventually reveals that his father has extremely high expectations of Dresden and his sister, and on several occasions he has been hit for failing, even taking beatings for his sister to protect her. He explains how he has allies with Margaery due to the girl reminding him of his sister, and Lisia doesn't tell him how Margaery is completely manipulating him.

Iroha keeps her head down as she enters the room, but when she glances up and sees only Lisia and Seraphim, her eyes narrow and she carefully studies them. With the truth serum administered, it doesn't take long for Iroha to change from the meek person she shows the others to someone willing to fight tooth and nail for her children. She lets loose with telling Lisia about what Kayden has done to her, how Iroha has been silently fighting and saving to escape him, and all the things he's done to try and keep her there. Lisia takes careful notes to bring this up to the President later, knowing he will want to know about the abuse Iroha has taken.

Pascal stops immediately in the doorway of the room and a Peacekeeper has to drag him over to the table, but he fights back against the serum. When it's given, he can't help the tears of frustration as he bites his tongue, fighting with everything in him to not speak up, but he can't fight it. He tells Lisia about living with the rebel leader and how he thinks he was forced into the arena by her. Lisia tries to get more from him, yet Pascal stays as silent as possible, stopping her from getting important information for the President. But Lisia just makes note of it, knowing there is still time for them to get information from him.

Betula comes in with a scowl on their face, sitting down with a sigh and crossing their arms at Lisia. They have no issue talking to her, unlike Pascal, but reveal how they were diagnosed with cancer one year ago and how now they are just ready to die instead of living like this, feeling as if it is their fault since they smoked. They would rather die than continue to be nuisance to their family, which is why they refused to let their friend volunteer in their place.

Grey is one of the tributes Lisia has been waiting for, knowing she will find out the truth about why he volunteered. He enters, all charm and with a dazzling smile, but Lisia has been around enough people to not get fooled by pleasantries. Grey tries to fight off her questions, but once he has the truth serum, he concedes to her questions, studying her as he tells her about how he feels he is the only one that can protect certain people, including his cousin, and that's why he volunteered – to show her how much she needs him. He loves protecting people and needs that validation, no matter what it takes.

Gwenith has her arms wrapped around herself as she approaches Lisia and Seraphim, face full of distrust and eyes lined with heavy bags and a fading black eye. But she doesn't fight the truth serum and tells Lisia about her family, how she was so much closer to her mother who disappeared a year ago, leaving her behind. Since then, her father's beatings have gotten worse and she's taken to drinking to numb the pain and block the nightmares that keep her up at night. The Reaping had been a particularly awful day for her and she drank too much, and that's how she ended up volunteering, but doesn't regret getting away from her father.

Laine enters nervously, a little afraid of Lisia as he sits across from her. He tells her about his impoverished family, being forced to drop out of school, but yet doesn't seem to have an issue with it, accepting his life for what it is. He opens up about his dreams of visiting the Capitol – just not quite like this – or for a richer life, yet knows it was something that wasn't in his future. After the last few tributes, Laine is a refreshing change with just how normal his life his.

Asha, however, proves to have a much different life than her District partner. She tries to tell Lisia how she does the work because it helps out her family, but soon reveals that she likes her dominatrix work. She loves the thrill she gets from having power over others and inflicting pain on them, yet it scares her that she enjoys this feeling. Asha admits her fear of that side taking over in the Games, yet knows it would help her survive.

Sissel enters the room on a mission towards her and before even getting the truth serum, he asks her to have a Thunderbird in the arena. Lisia gives him the serum, wanting to know he's telling the truth, before he tells her that he has trained a Thunderbird – a Capitol bird mutt – and learned how it kills, using it to kill those that have committed crimes and deserve it. He doesn't give her details of the mutt, saying he wants to make a bargain of the research in exchange for the mutt. And so Lisia's only answer is that she will discuss it with the President.

Ally is thankfully a normal tribute in comparison to the previous two, not afraid to continue being her stand up self in front of Lisia, but still being polite to the Head Gamemaker. Ally speaks up about the way she has been raised in her family, told to be quiet and know her place, yet it did the opposite for her. She knows what she believes in and she isn't afraid to speak up about it, something that Lisia respects as she has had to do that several times in her career.

Grant enters slowly, frowning as he approaches the Gamemakers and sighing as he takes his seat and is given the truth serum. He tells Lisia about growing up in an average household, yet despite having everything he needs, struggling with times where he has times of having such low energy, unable to do anything, and when he starts to describe periods of the opposite, Lisia interrupts him to gently tell him that they diagnosed him with Bipolar Disorder. Grant takes a minute of silence at this information, a variety of emotions playing across his face, until he eventually sighs and remarks that the diagnosis doesn't change anything about his odds.

Lisia is exhausted by time they reach the final tribute, not having expected _just_ how dark some of these interviews would be. "Okay last up is Jendaya Barrett, and then we're going for a drink."

* * *

_Jendaya 'Jenny' Barrett, 18, District Eleven_

Jenny enters the training room after her name is called – _finally_ her turn to go – but she slows as she finds the room transformed. Gone are all the training stations and only a desk with three people sit there. Jenny is apprehensive as she approaches the Head Gamemaker, eyeing the man holding a syringe behind the pair of Gamemakers.

"What's going on?" Jenny asks tentatively as she stops behind the empty chair. This wasn't what she was expecting…she was going to show them her mediocre knife skills and a poison that is not nearly what she is capable of making, but just enough to show them that she's capable. Just not a threat.

"Please, take a seat," Lisia directs her to the chair and Jenny slowly sits down. She flinches away from the man as he approaches her with the syringe and Lisia raises her hand, noticing the action and stopping him. "We will be asking you a few questions. He is going to give you a truth serum to make sure you don't lie to us."

Jenny eyes the syringe with concern, wondering if it actually works…she's certainly going to try to lie. "How long will that last?" Jenny asks carefully, keeping on a charming smile like she would back home with the influential people at the parties she hosts.

Lisia gets an amused look at her question, "Clever girl, asking that. It will only last 30 minutes." Lisia gestures to the man and he inserts the syringe into Jenny's arm, making her give a slight twitch of pain, but then it's soon over. "Now, Jendaya-"

"Jenny, please."

"Jenny," Lisia corrects, leaning forward to look at her. "Question to make sure it's working. What's your husband's name?"

Jenny fights the scowl at the mention of her husband, knowing she has to be playing the role of the sad widow, instead turning it into a sad look. But she tries to see if she can lie, "His name was Gar-" Jenny finds herself cutting off, her throat tightening and being unable to say the lie. "G-" Lisia raises an eyebrow as she waits expectantly and Jenny tries to control her fear as she realizes that they have, in fact, given her a truth serum. "Kane."

"There we go," Lisia says with a smile before leaning back in her chair. "Alright, only four questions for you, Jenny. First, what's the best thing you've ever done?" Lisia asks her, folding her hands in her lap.

Jenny bites her lip, trying to fight the urge to say her answer, knowing it right away. Yet she can't fight the serum they gave her and she lets out her answer, immediately clasping a hand over her mouth and wishing she hadn't answered. "I poisoned my husband."

Lisia blinks a few times at her, somehow not seeming too shocked at this, and Jenny can only wonder what else they have heard today that someone poisoning her husband doesn't faze her. "Why?"

"He was abusive," Jenny tells her, biting her tongue to stop talking about all of this. Damn it! This was the one secret she promised herself she would take to her grave. And now…now the Head Gamemaker has this information and they aren't going to let someone who murdered her husband win… "And rich. I came from nothing and he had everything…"

"Hmm," Lisia lets out as she takes notes about Jenny's response, no doubt making note to tell the President of her crime. "And what is the worst thing you have ever done?"

Jenny shakes her head, feeling her eyes start to water as she tries not to answer this, hating the guilt in her whenever she thinks about it. "I…am the reason I miscarried. I didn't…didn't know I was pregnant and I still drank. Surely it was karma for what I did to Kane…"

Lisia stays quiet for a minute, studying Jenny as she can feel her eyes welling in tears of frustration. _Fuck_, what are they going to do to her now?! "Why do you want to win?"

"Because I fought through hell to get the life I have and I want to keep it," Jenny answers, anger growing in her voice at being forced to share these parts of her life. "Why are you asking this?"

"For reasons," Lisia answers coolly, not letting Jenny's frustration bother her. "Last thing, Jenny. Why do you deserve to win?"

Jenny stares at Lisia for a minute, trying to think of her answer to this question. Deserve to win? Does anyone who wins _actually_ deserve it? But she deserves to live her life free Kane, free of the abuse, free to do whatever she wants. "Because I'm a survivor," Jenny finally answers, not ashamed to tell her what Kane did to her. If she knows about the murder, she might as well know what led to it. "Kane tried to control everything about me. He would belittle me or hit me for the smallest mistake. He would force himself on me, make me have sex with him. And when he drank, it only got worse. So yes, I did kill him, but he deserved it for all the pain he caused me. And I deserve to live life free from him."

Jenny takes a deep breath and lets it out, staring at Lisia who stares back, both of them keeping their faces clear of emotions. Jenny feels a bit of satisfaction at telling someone just what Kane did and not letting them all think that he was some great man and she mourns him daily. But as the seconds tick by, Jenny starts to realize the gravity of what she just revealed, and her stubborn pride starts to slip away.

"Thank you, Jenny," Lisia finally says to her coolly and gestures to the door. "You may leave now."

Jenny slowly stands up, staring at Lisia and trying to read something from her, any sort of indication of if Jenny just made the worst mistake ever. But she couldn't control it…they forced her to take the truth serum. As Jenny starts walking to the exit door, each step makes her stomach feel worse as she becomes almost certain that she just signed her death sentence.

She swore she would never tell anyone what she did.

* * *

A pit is in Jenny's stomach as she sits on the couch, her knees pulled up and feet tucked under her, staying quiet despite Kanzi trying to get her chatting. She couldn't bring herself to tell Kanzi what she revealed to Lisia, wanting to pretend that it was all just a bad dream and she didn't reveal her biggest secret to the woman who decides if she lives or dies.

She has no doubt that her secret will be reflected in her score and she doesn't know what she's going to do then. Does she own up to Kanzi and tell her or pretend it's some fluke? And what does she even tell Iroha? Maybe this is a sign that she shouldn't ally with Iroha, just go alone and take out the competition until Lisia decides she's done enough and takes Jenny's life.

_Fucking Kane is still going to win._

No. She absolutely _cannot_ let Kane win. Jenny did not fight through months of abuse to have the life she's earned be taken away from Kane. He didn't deserve the wealth, not with how awful of a person he was. Jenny will not go back to poverty, will not give up the wealth she's had a taste of, and she most certainly will _not_ let the Gamemakers win because they used tricks to get her to reveal her secret. If they want to kill her for getting out of an abusive relationship, then so be it. Jenny will never regret what she did to Kane.

She can only hope someone had a worse secret they revealed.

The screen flickers to life and Jenny tenses as she stares at it, watching the couple bicker with each other like usual – everyone knows it's all an act for Claudia and Elliot, but it's expected each year. "Good evening, Panem!" Elliot greets the crowd, grinning as he looks over at Claudia. "I'm Elliot Templesmith, your announcer for the Hunger Games, here with the always lovely Claudia Flickerman!"

"Flattery won't get you anywhere," Claudia tells him, rolling her eyes and fighting off a smile. "Let's focus on what the people are here to see – the scores for the 137th Hunger Games!"

"Now Miss Arune personally delivered this to us," Elliot says, waving a sealed envelope. "And she told us that each score is correct and all will be revealed soon."

"You know Head Gamemaker Arune," Claudia comments, raising an eyebrow at him. "Always trying to top herself and with this being her final year, there's no doubt she has something amazing planned!"

"First up, Rodrick Tang of District One with a…" Elliot pauses, his face scrunching in surprise for a moment, "A twelve."

Of course they gave the murderer a twelve.

"And Nativity Nadal with a – a one?!" Claudia asks in disbelief, and Elliot looks at the score, confirming it.

"In District Two, Kaz Aberdeen has a score of…one" Elliot continues, confusion on both of their faces.

"And Marian Lilley has a score of twelve?" Claudia continues and the two share a look. "I'll just remind everyone that Head Gamemaker Arune personally delivered these scores and reassured us that they are, in fact correct.

The two begin alternating through the scores, and a pattern soon becomes clear when the only scores given are either 1 or 12.

"Samis McCree…one."

"Sasha Kolster…one."

"Aberforth Barringer…one."

"Orin Rensch…twelve."

"Artem Nobyl…one."

"Margaery Fox…twelve."

"Dresden Kahlo…twelve."

Jenny holds her breath when they get to her ally, wondering which score Iroha will get – and not knowing what score she would want her to get. Because it's clear Lisia is up to something and these scores mean something, she just doesn't know _what_.

"Iroha Kinoshita…one."

Jenny doesn't know what to think of that, not until she knows how her score compares.

"Pascal Flores…one."

"Betula Washington…twelve."

"Grey Pendleton…twelve."

"Gwenith Drezzel…twelve."

"Laine Lawson…one."

"Asha Kader…twelve."

"Sissel Wetherburn…twelve."

"Ally Ishmael…one."

"Grant Gallitan-Montgomery…one."

Jenny tenses when her face is shown, waiting to see what they will give her. "Jendaya Barrett…twelve."

Jenny sinks back into the couch, not sure what to think about her score. If these scores were given based on what they told Lisia… Well, Jenny told her that she murdered her husband. The _known_ murderer also got a twelve…

"Half of the tributes earned a one and the other half earned a twelve," Kanzi points out to their team, but Jenny is barely listening to her, and especially ignoring the curious look she's giving her. "Lisia is up to something and I bet the scores are going to mean something in that arena."

Sure, they might. Or the score might be signing her death sentence. The question is…what did all the other people do to earn a twelve?

* * *

**Just what is Lisia up to here with the scores? Of course she has a plan and yes, these scores are going to tie in to something in the arena - but you will have to wait and see what exactly! Honestly it shouldn't be a surprise that Lisia messed with the scores and didn't give scores that actually reflect their abilities lol (*eyes FQQ*). Lisia came in and got _all_ the tea spilled lol. Any of the reveals in this chapter surprise you? Did anyone suspect that Jenny was responsible for Kane's death? I did have some very subtle hints in her POVs before. **

**We're getting ever closer to the Games officially starting! Just two more chapters left - interviews and night before! I feel like these pre-Games have gone by so fast compared to my other stories XD But I'm not mad about it. I love writing the Games so I can't wait to reach that point with everything I have planned for it!**

**RQ #18:** Any guesses as to what these scores could mean? I will say that there are hints for what the arena will be _somewhere._

**That's all I have to say! I'll see you on Monday with the Interviews where we'll hear from Rodrick and Artem (and the others)!**


	23. The Interviews

**Chapter 19:**

_Rodrick Tang, 18, District One_

Rodrick wishes there wasn't so much fakeness in this, everyone putting on a charade to both the Capitol and their allies. He knows it's causing his bluntness to make him out to be an asshole in his alliance, but he's not changing his strategy now. He will keep being cold to every single one of them, he won't make friends with them, and he certainly won't feel guilty when they die before him so that he can become the victor, just like his mother has been training him to do. He _especially_ isn't going to feel bad when his much more innocent allies die, nope, definitely not.

If they could just get the damn hint already that Rodrick doesn't want to be their friends, that would be great. Marian and Tiv got the hint and instead those two have been chatting away as they wait backstage for these interviews to be over with already. Although he is keeping an eye on them, suspecting that Tiv might betray District loyalty if it came down to him or Marian. Can't say he blames her, considering his status – but he is going to show the Capitol otherwise tonight. Then there's Orin, who just does zir own thing, barely talking to any of them, yet no one seems to be questioning that or trying to be zir friend. But Kaz…he won't stop trying to talk to Rodrick and he's already friendly with Abel, so Rodrick keeps getting subjected to forced conversations with the two boys.

At least if there's one good part of all of these false pleasantries that are the interviews, it's the fact that he's up second and once they're sitting to the side of the stage, they can't be talking to him there.

"Are you nervous?" Abel asks them as Claudia takes the stage to begin this show, getting a variety of responses from the alliance. Marian shrugs her shoulders as Tiv shakes her head, Orin stares blankly ahead at the entrance to the stage, while Kaz takes his time thinking over his answer.

"A little bit," Kaz answers Abel, glancing at Rodrick and the others briefly before looking back at Abel, seemingly more comfortable with him than the others. Great, another sub-alliance to be weary of. See, why can't they all just openly say they would rather go off alone or be in pairs? "Mostly worried about the noise from the crowd."

Abel gives him a reassuring smile and Rodrick fights the urge to roll his eyes, not believing that Abel is actually friendly with Kaz. Surely it's all just an act and Kaz is falling right for it. "I'm sure you'll do great."

"Let's kick things off with Nativity Nadal from District One!"

They all look over at Tiv at the sound of Claudia calling out her name, bringing their conversation to a stop. "I'll try not to impress them too much that they don't pay attention to you," Tiv tells them, blowing a mocking kiss at them as she laughs before heading out onto the stage.

Tiv is everything the victors in One have tried to coach them to be for their interviews to win over the crowd. She's charming and even a little flirty towards them, giving some winks and blowing kisses when some cheer out at an answer from her. She doesn't back down from Claudia's questions, even stopping the host from trying to slap a narrative on her and giving her the truth of her life. The crowd laughs and cheers for her, and Tiv is clearly basking in the attention and it just makes her amp up her actions. Tiv is everything that Rodrick _should_ be for his interview, yet can't be. He can't be pleasant and flirty – not that he could even give a good shot at flirting.

"Alright Tiv, we're nearing the end of your interview, so any last thing you would like to say?"

Tiv contemplates her answer for a few seconds before giving the crowd a winning grin and winking at them, "I'm about to show you just how deadly this pretty face can be."

Tiv walks off to her seat to loud applause, waving and blowing more kisses at the crowd as Rodrick tenses backstage, recognizing just how important these next few minutes are going to be. He _has_ to show the Capitol that he should be given a fair chance in this arena regardless of his past.

And really, how can they frown upon his murder that was training for the very death match they're cheering about now?

"And now for one that we have all been curious about since the very first Reaping," Claudia tells the crowd, quieting them down as Rodrick adjusts the constricting tie he has on and takes a deep breath to steady himself and push down any stupid emotions threatening to come out right now. "Let's bring out Rodrick Tang!"

Rodrick keeps his shoulders back and face neutral as he heads out onto the stage, expecting applause from the crowd but instead being met with an awkward mix of applause and some jeers at him, catching him off guard for a moment as he takes his seat across from Claudia. He…didn't expect some to not be happy to see him on the stage… Can he even win them over?

"Alright Rodrick, I'm going to cut to the chase here," Claudia starts and Rodrick brings his attention back to the host, keeping his face blank and not letting his uncertainty show through. Rodrick nods his head at her, prompting her to ask the question he knows she is going to ask. "We saw you at the Reaping in a prison jumpsuit and handcuffs…what was your crime?"

Rodrick knows Claudia knows the answer, yet she still wants him to be the one to tell the crowd. And how he answers this…is crucial. Rodrick clears his throat as he addresses the host, "Look, Claudia, I have been training for the Hunger Games for years. Many people have. Yet you see some where once they get into the Games, they can't kill or the guilt of taking a life stops them from winning. I was not going to find out if I would be like that in the arena where failure would mean my death. That's why I murdered that old man, to prove I am capable of killing in the arena. It's what my mother had been training me towards for years."

The crowd murmurs at this and Rodrick glances out at them, finding them not looking too happy about his crime. He turns his gaze back to Claudia, finding the host contemplating her next question as she stares at him. "So you're saying your mother encouraged you to murder an old man?"

"Yes, she did," Rodrick answers immediately, getting gasps of surprise from the crowd that just confuses him. "For years she has been coaching me on how to control my emotions and how to stop myself from getting hurt. So of course she encouraged me to do that instead of finding out in the arena where I could get hurt."

"But it didn't work out for you, clearly," Claudia points out to him and Rodrick narrows his eyes slightly. "You were imprisoned for it. Why would you still volunteer after that?"

"I knew I could win the Games if given the chance," Rodrick tells her, crossing his arms as he stares her down. "And I would rather die fighting in the arena while proving myself than rot in a jail cell for the rest of my life."

Claudia purses her lips, clearly not happy with interviewing him, yet she tries to keep up the pleasantries. "Well, Rodrick, any last thing you would like to say?"

"I won't let you down, mother," Rodrick answers right away, sitting up taller and puffing out his chest. "I _will_ win these Games."

The buzzer sounds and the crowd barely gives applause to him as he stands up, but as he walks over to his seat, some of them begin to boo at him and it grows in volume as he sits. Rodrick keeps his face blank as he sits next to Tiv, trying not to let the boos from the crowd get to him, yet he can feel his stomach twisting at the reaction to him. He didn't expect this… He thought they would support him. He did what they expect them to do starting tomorrow. So why are they disapproving of him?

Fuck…he has to try even harder to win them over in the arena…

"Next up, Marian Lilley from District Two!"

Marian heads out onto the stage with a stubborn look in her eyes and receiving much greater applause than Rodrick did. She leans back in her chair, putting her arm on the back of it and showing off her muscles as she goes in on her family, calling them out for the way they treated her over the years. She doesn't hesitate to point out their bigotry, seeming quite happy to spite them. She makes sure to bring up her girlfriend, blowing a kiss at the camera to her and promising her return.

"Any last things to say?"

Marian nods her head, sitting forward as she looks into the camera. "Jazmyn…I'm getting you out of that hellhole. Just a couple more weeks and then you'll be free."

The crowd cheers for her as she sits next to Rodrick, not even looking at him and confirming that he has had the worst interview so far. He can only hope it doesn't stay that way.

"And now Marian's District partner, Kaz Aberdeen!"

Kaz is doing his best to focus on Claudia as he approaches the host, not the crowd applauding him, and Rodrick catches sight of earplugs to muffle the sound of them. Kaz shakes Claudia's hand as he sits and contemplates each answer for a few seconds. He talks about how training became a passion for him and how it has always been his goal to be the leader of the career pack to prove he is just like everyone else. When Claudia asks him about what else he likes to do aside from training, he very animatedly discusses the game Dungeons and Dragons that he plays with his friends, to the point where Claudia has to politely interrupt him to ask her final question.

"This game does sound very interesting, but I'm afraid we're running out of time. Anything you would like to say to people watching?"

Kaz glances at the crowd and nearly starts biting his nails, stopping when he realizes what he's doing. "Don't count me out. I can win just like any of the other tributes."

"Next up is District Three! We'll start out with Sasha Kolster!"

The stylists at least gave Sasha pants as part of her outfit, helping her walking out onto the stage with the help of a cane, giving Claudia a stubborn look when the host starts to give her a look of pity. Sasha goes in on telling the host what happened to her – a stroke – and how because it's less commonly known about, she had more negative side effects of it than she should have. But she also ensures the Capitol knows that this won't be slowing her down and she's still going to be giving her all.

Yet when Claudia gets to asking about allies, Sasha hesitates and her stubbornness slips away a bit. "Do you have any allies supporting you?"

"I…" Sasha bites her lip and shrugs her shoulders at the host. "There's still an open invitation and I think…we'll see what happens in the bloodbath tomorrow."

The crowd is intrigued by her answer – not to the level of the careers – but still better than for Rodrick…

"And now Sasha's District partner, Samis McCree!"

Samis comes out on the stage and it becomes clear very quickly that he's diverting Claudia's questions away from getting too personal, trying to make jokes instead that fall a little flat on the audience. He seems to realize that his strategy isn't working, and even though he doesn't want to, he slowly starts to open up about his family, specifically his mother that he has been caring for on his own for years after she was diagnosed with early dementia and his father walked out. It starts to earn him sympathy from the crowd, much to his surprise.

"Anything else you would like to say? Maybe to your family?"

Samis nods his head as he looks at the camera, blinking a couple times before taking a deep breath and answering, "Mom, I'm trying my hardest to get home to you. If I don't…Dad, if you still even care the slightest bit…please help her."

Samis gets a surprising amount of applause from the crowd and Rodrick doesn't get it. Why are they caring about these two from Three? Why didn't they like him more for showing them that he is capable of doing exactly what he needs to do to win?

"Time for the last of our career Districts with Orin Rensch from District Four!"

Orin is still just as unimpressive as ze have been the entire time in training as ze go out on the stage, looking rather bored at all of this. Rodrick thought Samis was avoiding giving any information about himself, but Orin truly doesn't reveal anything to Claudia. Ze swiftly avoid the questions, staying closed off, and it works for zim. The crowd likes the mysteriousness ze are giving them, only letting them know that ze are the child of two dentists and has been working there part time for years to help out zir parents and enjoys it very much.

"Anything else you want to tell us, Orin? Come on, bite a little and give us something!"

The crowd laughs at Claudia's dentistry joke but Orin keeps staring at her blankly, blinking a couple times before giving a small shrug. "You'll see what I can do."

The crowd cheers for Orin as ze go to zir seat, looking unimpressed by all of this and making Rodrick wonder why the hell ze even volunteered and why the Capitol is more excited about zim than they were with him. Is it the mysteriousness? Should he have kept quiet and not told them his motives? But that would be dumb, there's no point in beating around the bush. They know he's a criminal and he had to tell them what for himself.

"And last of our careers, Aberforth Barringer!"

Abel is polite as can be as he heads out onto the stage, greeting Claudia with friendliness and only looking a little awkward in his movements as he sits down. Unlike Sasha's stubbornness, Abel is more open with telling her about the training accident he had where he was thrown out of the fighting arena and into a cement wall, that combined with a fall breaking many bones and potentially leaving him paralyzed from the waist down. It was a wakeup call for him and he found purpose again working on the docks, still able to use his upper body well, but he never lost the dream of volunteering. So when his friend was picked and gave him the option instead, he took the chance.

"That is quite the friendship you have there if he was willing to face Okeanas' rage for you!" Claudia says and Abel nods his head, letting out a bit of a chuckle at it. "Anything you would say to him or your family right now?"

"Leith…thanks again for this," Abel tells the camera quietly, but Rodrick doesn't miss the flash of doubt on his face. Good, something to use against him. "And moms, sisters…I'll be home soon. I promise you."

Somehow, the crowd likes the crippled rogue volunteer more than the murderer rogue volunteer… Rodrick leans back in his chair, fighting to keep his face neutral as rage slowly builds in him that he's the least popular of his alliance…and a bit of fear that he was wrong about being able to get the Capitol on his side.

He can't have been wrong.

* * *

_Artem Nobyl, 14, District Five_

Going out in front of the entire country and having everyone focused on purely him and everything wrong about him is probably Artem's worst nightmare… He doesn't want to hear what they'll say about him, doesn't want them to ask him what happened. He knows they will and if he doesn't answer, it will look bad on him after Sasha and Abel were so open about their accidents.

But that's the problem. For them, it was accidents that caused them to be disabled. Artem was born this way…there's always been something wrong with him, he's never been normal like them…

Artem takes a deep breath, trying to focus on the encouragement that Grey has been giving him, telling him all about how he can get far in the Games because he won't be alone and has other people with him. And he's right. Artem knows he wouldn't be able to do this on his own…he's lucky that he has Grey and Gwenith as his allies. He still doesn't know how he feels about Sasha still not giving a definitive answer…but it seems like she is still considering it.

And Grey doesn't seem like he wants to give up until she's dead.

"And it is time for District Five! First up, Margaery Fox!"

Artem watches his District partner go out onto the stage, an anxious pit beginning to form in his stomach as he knows he's up next. Margaery looks so sweet and innocent as she sits on the stage, answering Claudia's questions charmingly, even shedding a few tears as she talks about her family and how she hopes she'll be able to return home to them. She brings up her alliance with Dresden, her eyes wide with hope as she discusses her older ally that is helping her out and reminds her of a big brother. She's so good at winning them over…Artem has no idea how he is going to follow up after her…

"What can we expect from you in the arena?"

Margaery tilts her head slightly to the side as she contemplates her response, before flashing a huge grin at the crowd. "Just because I am small and little does not mean you should underestimate me!"

She gets a good amount of applause from the crowd as she takes her seat, leaving Artem frozen in place as Claudia moves on, "And now let's hear from her District partner, Artem Nobyl!"

A hand on his shoulder makes Artem jump and he glances back to find Grey smiling encouragingly at him. "You can do this. Just remember what I told you to do and you'll be fine."

Artem nods his head before taking a deep breath and slowly heading out onto the stage, blinking against the blinding lights and feeling self-conscious about his crutch as he approaches Claudia, but he keeps repeating Grey's words in his head. _This is who I am, there's no changing it. My allies accept me for who I am, they will too._

Artem awkwardly takes his seat across from Claudia, resting his crutch next to him as the host shakes his hand. At least he has his right hand, otherwise this would have just been even more awkward than he's already making it. "Welcome, Artem! How are you doing?"

"I'm alright," Artem answers honestly, knowing that it's what Letha coached him to do. Yet he can't help but feel like he will just sound a bit like he's going for their pity. "A bit nervous, I'll admit."

"No need to be nervous! I promise I'm not scary, just don't ask Elliot," Claudia fake whispers to the crowd, getting them to laugh at the comment about her partner. She's all smiles as she turns back to Artem, helping him relax a little bit. "Why don't we start with telling us a bit about yourself?"

Artem nods his head nervously, glancing out at the crowd watching him silently, waiting to hear all about his curious appearance. "I'm sure you all want to know about this," Artem says, raising his left arm. He lets out a sigh when he sees Claudia's curious look, knowing she'll just ask him about it anyways. That's all _everyone_ ever does when they meet him – want to know why he looks different, not who he is. "I'm not like Sasha or Abel who had some accident. I was just born this way and have been…different…my whole life."

"I'm sure you've had to overcome a lot in your life," Claudia says and Artem nods in agreement. "Surely if you have been able to do all of that, you'll continue to overcome the challenges you'll face in the arena!"

"I sure hope so," Artem answers quietly, trying to stay hopeful for the sake of his fathers, but he's struggling. "I'm lucky that I won't be going alone…"

"Who are you allied with?" Claudia asks him curiously, but he can tell from her face she already knows the answer. Of course they already know every detail about his life… Does she know the things he told Lisia about his darkest moments in the last year? He really hopes she doesn't…he can't let his fathers know about that…

"Grey and Gwenith," Artem answers before glancing over to the side of the stage where the tributes that have already been interviewed sit. He finds Sasha right away, staring at him with a face full of conflicting emotions. "Maybe one more if she agrees."

The crowd reacts to this statement, surprising Artem as he turns back to Claudia. "Well you never know what can happen in the arena! We've seen even more surprising alliances form in the heat of action. But we're nearly out of time here, so anything else you would like to say?"

Artem starts frowning, feeling like he has so much he wants to say to his fathers…yet none of it he wants to say in front of the entire nation. "I guess…to my fathers…I'm trying here, I really am…"

The buzzer goes off shortly after that and the crowd gives him a decent amount of applause, but not nearly to the level of most of the careers. Of course not, he's just a hopeless young boy, not a trained fighter like them…

Artem stands up, trying his hardest not to get off balanced as he gets his crutch situated – thankfully without Claudia trying to unnecessarily help him – and heads over to his seat, keeping his head down as he walks past the careers, past his potential ally who he doesn't want to look at in case she is offended by him pointing her out in his interview. But he was just doing what Grey suggested…

When he finally sits, he lets out a sigh as he glances at the crowd, hoping he made a good enough impression that they won't immediately count him out tomorrow.

"Now we're off to District Six with Iroha Kinoshita!"

Iroha heads out onto the stage, face stone cold as she refuses to look at the crowd. She takes her seat quietly across from Claudia, refusing to answer any of the questions until it turns to asking about her family. Then, she fully opens up, describing in great detail the years of abuse she has experienced at the hands of the father of her children. Claudia sits back in stunned silence as the mother talks about how Kayden cannot be allowed to continue to abuse both herself and her son Noah, and especially not her new baby girl that was delivered yesterday evening.

Iroha ends by looking directly at the cameras, her face pleading at the Capitol and those with the power to help her and her children. "Please, I am _begging_ you…someone, anyone, stop Kayden. Do _not_ let him take my children if I don't make it out of the arena. He is no father to them and will continue to abuse them…"

Claudia is still silent as the buzzer goes off, giving a glance up at the President and Gamemakers as Iroha goes to her seat, before the crowd starts yelling in support of Iroha, also cheering for them to protect her children. The host finally gets herself collected and gets the crowd to quiet down before bringing out the poor tribute having to follow up that interview. And Artem can just feel that he won't be remembered…not with Iroha right after him… "Okay, we must continue on with Dresden Kahlo from Six!"

Dresden is aware of how the crowd isn't really paying attention to him anymore, making Artem feel bad and watch his interview intently. Dresden is polite and kind as he answers Claudia's questions, unafraid of being softer here to try to win over the crowd. He looks a little unhappy when his outfit is brought up and he discusses the store his parents own, selling the style of clothing, but he quickly turns the family discussion to his sister who is his best friend, and also brings up his girlfriend. Artem can't help the pang of jealousy at him having so many people he's close to and struggles to push the feeling down.

"So what would you want to say to those rooting for you?" Claudia asks him at the end of his interview.

"I'm fighting to win, so please don't lose hope," Dresden tells the cameras before the buzzer sounds and he goes to his seat, giving Iroha a mixed look as he sits next to her.

"Next up is our two youngest tributes, both from District Seven! First up, Betula Washington!"

Betula is angry as they head out onto the stage and Claudia tries to keep the interview on track, but Betula doesn't allow her to do that, instead getting angry at the host and the Capitol for having the cure for their cancer, yet they don't help those in the Districts. Claudia can barely get any questions in as Betula continues to rant about how unfair it is that they have to die because they don't have the same healthcare in Seven as the Capitol does. They end the interview by pulling off what Artem didn't even know was a wig and throwing it Claudia. "Thanks for sentencing me to death."

Claudia sits in shock for a few seconds with the wig sitting in her lap as Betula storms over to their seat, before a crew member comes out and takes the wig from her. "Alright," Claudia clears her throat and tries to smile at the crowd. "How about we hear from Pascal Flores?"

Pascal is silently fuming as he goes out on the stage, crossing his arms as he sits across from Claudia and scowls at her. The host does her best to be unbothered by the glaring preteen across from her, asking lighthearted and insubstantial questions that get only yes or no answers from Pascal. Eventually though, he points out the obvious and how she hasn't asked him anything worthwhile.

"Aren't you going to ask me about my family?" Pascal interrupts Claudia and the host gets an uneasy look about this. He doesn't wait for her to answer him, instead turning to the cameras. "Well I have something to say about them," Pascal pauses to give two middle fingers at the camera, getting gasps of surprise from the crowd. "You can suck my _ass_, Ve-"

Pascal is cut off before he can finish as two guards grab his arms and bring him off stage, the boy still yelling insults at whoever he is angry with, his mic turned off and preventing anyone from hearing him over the music being played.

Well…at least Artem didn't do as poorly as the District Seven pair did…

"How about we move on to District Eight?" Claudia asks the crowd, a very fake smile on her face. "First up, Gwenith Drezzel!"

Gwenith is noticeably trying to keep her calm as she goes out onto the stage, at least it's noticeable to Artem having spent time with her the past few days and seen how quick her temper is. She tries not to get annoyed at Claudia asking her about why she volunteered, but a bit of sass slips through as she tells her how in that moment, it was the only way to get out of a shitty situation. She brings up how Grey has been helping her a lot, looking truly calm for the first time in her interview as she talks about her District partner.

"And anything else you want to say?" Claudia asks her.

Gwenith frowns at the question, staying silent for a few seconds before speaking up in a quiet voice, "Mom, I'm going to find you when this is over."

Claudia clearly wants to ask more about this, but the buzzer sounds before she gets the chance and Gwenith quickly heads over to her seat. "Well time to hear from Gwenith's ally and District partner, Grey Pendleton!"

Grey heads onto the stage, grinning and waving at the crowd, looking more casual than the rest after ditching his bowtie backstage. Grey is so confident and charismatic…exactly what Artem wishes he could have been for his interview, but he'll never be that way. He'll never have that confidence in himself… He's all smiles as he greets Claudia, starting to answer her questions about why he volunteered but taking over and talking about what he wants to talk about. He tells the crowd about his cousin's accident and how it left her physically disabled and how she's never quite gotten her life back together, and so Grey is here to get the means for her to do so.

"You know, that's why I have some of the allies I do," Grey points out and Artem picks his head up, wondering what Grey is going to say about them. "Artem reminds me a lot of Quill and so I had to help him. Of course, in the end it will only be to a certain extent since I need to win for Quill, but at least I can give him a bit of aid in the arena. And then there's Sasha…"

"What about Sasha?" Claudia asks, finally getting a question in and only somewhat hiding her irritation.

Grey lets out a loud sigh as he slowly brings his gaze over to where Sasha sits. "Well, I've been trying very hard to show Sasha that she needs my help, but she keeps stubbornly saying no. She reminds me the most of my cousin and…I just wish she would accept my help."

The buzzer goes off before they can have any sort of response and the crowd starts cheering at Sasha and Artem feels a little bad about them putting pressure on her right now, even though he knows it would be good for her to join their alliance. And it's not too late yet…

Sasha avoids Grey's look as he passes her. Grey slows a little to grin at Artem, which Artem tentatively returns, and give him a pat on the shoulder before heading to his spot.

"I guess we'll have to wait and see what happens in the arena tomorrow," Claudia tells the crowd, much to their disappointment. "Because it is time for District Nine. First up, Asha Kader!"

Asha is hesitant as she walks out on the stage in an outfit that shocks Artem and also the crowd, but the crowd reacts with cheers to the leather corseted dress while Artem feels uncomfortable. Asha slows at the crowd's cheers, her face confused as she takes her seat across from Claudia and is hesitant with the questions at first, but as she keeps getting praise from the crowd, she puts her shoulders back and gains confidence, even starting to flirt with the crowd a bit. But when Claudia asks her what she does back home, Asha freezes up and is very slow to give an answer to her, just remarking that she likes to be in control of others. It's a cryptic response that clearly has the crowd wanting to know more, but Asha doesn't give up more information about it.

"So if you like being in control, what can we expect from you in the arena?"

Asha takes a long moment to answer this, leaning back in her chair and slowly recrossing her legs and drawing the attention of the crowd to the bare skin. "Hmm, let's just hope the Gamemakers are going to put some whips in that arena and then you'll see."

The buzzer goes before the crowd can have any further explanation and Asha seems to enjoy teasing them about it as she saunters over to her seat, swaying her hips and giving them some flirting winks.

"Well, guess we will have to hope Head Gamemaker Arune is going to do that," Claudia tells the crowd, getting cheers of agreement. "But for now, it is time for Laine Lawson!"

Laine is a much more subdued personality compared to Asha was as he heads out onto the stage, more sweet than Asha's flirty mood. Laine is upfront with Claudia, answering all of her questions with very little hesitation and telling the Capitol all about himself. His family has never had much, yet he still has such a positive attitude about life, something that makes Artem envious that he can't be the same when he has had more opportunities. Laine flatters the Capitol by talking about how he's always dreamed of traveling to the Capitol, so while he is afraid for what's to come in the arena, he's trying to take it one day at a time.

"So you seem like a nice guy," Claudia points out and Laine gives a chuckle and a bashful smile. "Surely someone like you isn't going into the arena without any allies."

"That is correct, yes, I have allies," Laine answers with a nod of his head. "Asha…and I have decided to work together, and Sissel joined in training."

Claudia doesn't miss the hesitation when he brought up Asha, but the buzzer goes off before she can question him about it. "Well guess we'll have to get more details from Sissel!" Claudia says as Laine heads over to his seat. "We'll hear from him soon, but first from District Ten is Ally Ishmael!"

Ally is polite as she takes her seat with Claudia, yet shows a stubbornness to stand up for the things she stands for. While still staying respectful, Ally brings up some of the discrepancies in wealth and living conditions in the Districts compared to the Capitol, stating how she would love to see more opportunities be brought to the Districts – while still giving praise to the Capitol's hospitality. She moves on to discussing her two allies – the pair from Seven – and how so many people have overlooked them, but she knows they deserve to have every fair opportunity in the Games and she is going to help them.

"Anything else you would like to say?" Claudia asks her with an eyebrow raised. "You have already expressed quite the range of views."

"That's because I am a stand up girl," Ally answers the host immediately. "I won't stop believing in what I stand for and won't back down. And that is going to apply to the arena."

Ally's interview ends, going surprisingly well considering she's one of the youngest – better than Artem's – and then Claudia is bringing out her District partner. "And let's hear from Sissel Wetherburn!"

Sissel is cheery as he heads out on the stage, having already talked a bunch backstage about his jacket with peacock feathers on it and talking off anyone who would listen's ear off about the birds. And he does the same to Claudia, not talking about anything other than birds, making sure to tell the Capitol all about the Wetherburn Avian Sanctuary and Rehabilitation Center that his grandmother founded and he helps run after her death a few years ago. He tells some funny stories about his grandmother's parrot cussing people out and about how cute owls look floating in a bathtub. When Claudia tries to talk about arena things, Sissel deflects back to birds, talking about his hobby of falconry and using that to hunt and how he has worked hard to build traps to collect birds without harming them.

By the end of the interview, Claudia seems fed up by not getting any answer from him that doesn't have to do with birds in some way, yet Sissel is unbothered by it. "So can we expect something bird related from you in the arena then?"

Sissel tilts his head to the side before giving a delayed chuckle to this question and a very noncommittal shrug. "Guess that all depends on if there's any birds in the arena."

The buzzer goes off without much answer from Sissel on what exactly he's even going to do in the arena and the crowd seems a little disappointed by it, yet Sissel doesn't give them a second glance as he goes to his seat.

"We have made it to our final District!" Claudia says with renewed excitement. "First up, Jendaya Barrett!"

Jendaya heads out onto the stage, giving the crowd a small smile, but keeping herself reserved as she takes her seat. She is friendly with the crowd, but still mourning the loss of her husband from just a couple months ago, getting the pity from them. But she keeps herself together, telling the crowd how she's strong and trying her best to move on and survive in the arena for his sake because he would want to see her living her best life still. Jendaya makes sure to talk about how she's been taking care of the winery after her husband's death, staying strong in his memory.

"That sure seems like a lot to go through," Claudia says to her and Jendaya nods her head, dabbing at her eye. "But it seems like you are quite strong to go through all of that and be here today!"

"I am, Claudia," Jendaya tells the host, taking a deep breath and straightening in her chair. "Stronger than most people think. They look at me and just see a pretty girl, but I am a lot more than just that. I won't give up in that arena."

Her answer gets some cheers from the crowd and Jendaya gives them a polite smile at it, shortly before the buzzer indicates the end of her interview. Jendaya heads to her seat, giving the crowd some small waves as Claudia gets ready for the final interview. "And last up, we have Grant Gallitan-Montgomery!"

Grant is subdued as he takes the stage, the poor boy having to wait until the very end to be interviewed. Artem couldn't imagine having to wait that long and watch everyone else give their interviews first and know he wouldn't compare to them… Grant does his best to answer Claudia's questions about his home life, but he's clearly tired and knows the crowd is ready for the interviews to be done, especially since he doesn't have any tragic history like Jendaya, or some interesting hobby like Sissel. He just has a normal life with his parents, not wealthy, but certainly not poor. Claudia does her best to get the crowd interested in him, but he doesn't have any allies to talk about.

"Alright, Grant, you're the last interview," Claudia points out as it gets close to ending. "Any final thing you want to say to wrap up all of the interviews?"

Grant looks over at the other tributes sitting on the stage, his face quite bleak as he takes in his competition. "Not really. I'm not special like some of them. Surely this will be another year where Eleven doesn't have a victor."

"You don't know that!" Claudia says, trying to keep the interview cheery, but there's nothing she can do about Grant's mood. Artem feels for the boy, understanding the hopelessness in him and wanting to help him, but he doesn't think Grey would want him as an ally, otherwise he would have asked already.

But thankfully for Claudia's sake, the buzzer goes off, ending the interviews on a somber note. "Well everyone, that concludes the interviews for the 137th Hunger Games! Tomorrow we will see just what this tributes are capable of doing and soon see who will be our next victor of Hunger Games!"

* * *

**We made it through the interviews, my dudes! Interviews are probably my least favorite part of the pre-Games so these were a struggle, so needless to say I'm happy to be through them XD Not too many big surprise reveals here after the private sessions, but we still get some tea about alliances and stuff! Any interview that surprised you? I hope they were all different enough, I was Struggling XD ****Because I'm terrible at describing outfits, I'll be making a blog post with all the interview outfits! That will be up on my random story blog and will be done at some point today. **

**There's only one more chapter left before the Games start! I'm so hyped for the Games XD We'll check in next chapter with Pascal, Sissel, and Lisia for the Night Before! There will be much tea next chapter lol. That will be up on Friday, June 5th (I know, not a Monday XD) because I need a Friday update between Renegades prologues lol. And then June 19th is quickly approaching!**

**RQ #19: **idk I'm out of ideas so I'll just ask which interview was your favorite?

**See you all soon for the Night Before! In the meantime, please check out Renegades if you're interested and consider subbing :)**


	24. The Night Before

**Chapter 20:**

_Pascal Flores, 12, District Seven_

Pascal is smug with satisfaction as he's taken backstage, knowing he probably angered the Capitol but it was fully worth it to tell Vera to suck his ass. God, he wishes he could have seen her reaction to that. He knows they're not going to let him win after that bullshit in the private sessions forced him to reveal things, so why not go out in burning rage? He has every right to be angry at this shitty situation he's been put in for something he couldn't even control. If Vera guaranteed his death, he's doing his damn best to bring her down too…in whatever way a scrawny twelve year old can do when he's about to be in the Hunger Games.

But when the guards don't take him up to the District Seven floor and instead bring him to a lower level, Pascal starts to get concerned. "Where are we going?" He asks as they lead him into a meeting room, empty table and chairs waiting for people to show up. Pascal nervously looks around the room, wondering why they are putting him in here… "Hello?" Pascal says when the guards don't acknowledge his question.

"You'll wait here until the interviews are done to talk," one of them answers, pointing at one of the chairs. "Sit."

"Okay…" Pascal says slowly as he sits down, staring at the two guards that stay in the room with him, not revealing anything else, even when Pascal tries to find out who will be coming here.

As he waits, he's left to just his thoughts, and that great feeling of calling out Vera slowly starts to slip away, getting replaced with a building sense that he completely fucked up. Why else would they bring him down here to talk? They know who he is and he's lucky they even let him talk in the first place. But now…? Now they're probably going to cut out his tongue so he can't say anything else in the arena, or maybe poison him now so he just mysteriously never wakes up tomorrow, or-

Pascal's train of thoughts is cut short by the door opening and a person walks in, one that Pascal has seen many times but very rarely talked to, forbidden to do so by Vera. Luciano Samson smiles at him as they approach, sitting down in the chair next to him and turning it to face him. "Hello Pascal, I heard you didn't want to talk to my sibling, so now you have me to deal with. Shall we drop all pretending that we both don't know exactly who the other is and why we're talking?"

Pascal frowns immediately, knowing that Luciano is so close to Vera… "You're going to tell Vera everything I say…"

Luciano starts to smirk and they let out a chuckle at this. "How about I let you in on a little secret if you answer my questions honestly?"

"Why should I answer you when I'm going to get killed in the arena anyways because of who I am?" Pascal asks, fear finally starting to creep in to him. He'd been able to put off the fear ever since he was reaped, focusing on the anger of this situation instead. But sitting here, the night before going into the arena with a person that is on the President's Council and close to Vera Snow… The fear slams into him and he starts shaking his head, trying so hard not to start crying. "I don't want to die in that arena but it seems inevitable. I haven't done anything in my life aside from apparently being born to the wrong family! Why does that mean I deserve to die?"

"Pascal… All these years, I've been working on the Capitol's side and providing information I can about the rebels to them. You need to trust me, but I am not on the side of the rebels, and I suspect you might not be too," Luciano stares at him for a few seconds, starting to frown. They reach into their pocket and toss a few pieces of paper on the table in front of him. "I'm here to offer you a fair chance in the arena on behalf of the Capitol if you cooperate with us."

"What's this?" Pascal asks hesitantly, wanting to reach out and look but afraid of what it says.

"Open it," Luciano instructs him, gesturing at the papers. Pascal reaches out with shaking hands and slowly opens all of them, finding the exact same thing written on each one… "When I recognized you, I instructed Winona to get some of the reaping slips before they could be destroyed. As you can see, that sample all says your name on it when you should have had one slip. We suspect they all had your name on it. We want to know why Vera Snow would intentionally rig you in because the Capitol didn't do it."

Pascal stares at the slip of paper in his hands with his name on it, feeling the world crashing around him as his worst fears are realized. He wanted to keep thinking that it wasn't true, that Vera wouldn't do this to him…but here is the proof along with the conversation he overheard. He cannot deny it anymore… Vera has tried to arrange his death all because of something he had no say in. And she probably will succeed, he doesn't stand a chance against the careers or most of the older tributes… How awful of a human being could she be that she has purposely tried to get a twelve year old killed in the Hunger Games? And she's the leader of the rebels…surely the rest are as awful as she is.

"Are you going to let me live if I tell you things?" Pascal asks quietly, still having immense fear that no matter what he does or says, he'll still die in that arena. He looks up at them with tearstained eyes, "Since I was put in here with no chance of it being someone else?"

Luciano contemplates this for a few seconds before sighing, "That will depend on what you tell us and if you can continue to be of use to us against the rebels."

"I'll tell you whatever you want to know about that bitch," Pascal tells them immediately, crumbling up the piece of paper in his hand. His closed fist shakes in anger as he meets Luciano's gaze, struggling now to hold back tears of frustration. All his life, he's tried to do whatever would make Vera happy and this is how she repays him? For something that wasn't even _his_ choice? No wonder Kira cheated on her, she's a huge fucking bitch. "They can all burn in hell."

* * *

_Sissel Wetherburn, 17, District Ten_

"How are you feeling kid?"

Sissel shrugs at Danila, not feeling like getting into everything going through his head right now. He knows her friendliness has only been out of obligation to be a mentor and there's no sense for him to pretend they're best friends now. Humanity sucks and he's seen so much fakeness in these few days in the Capitol to last a lifetime, and he knows in the coming days he'll see people do awful things. At least the killing has a reason, ultimately – even if he's sure some of the tributes are going to act unpredictably at some point and irritate him. Why can't they just kill and be done with it? No need to drag things out or make it over the top. Just kill or be killed. Survive. Simple as that.

"I'm fine," Sissel tells her, shaking his head when she clearly starts to think by him saying that he actually isn't fine – why do people always have to think that? "I'll do what needs to be done. I have too much on the line with the birds to not do what needs to be done."

_If only he could have one of them with him._ Sissel will admit, he's disappointed and a bit jaded that the Gamemakers haven't said anything about giving him a thunderbird. He thought for sure they would since he promised he would use his research to kill. Guess they don't want to know exactly where he hid his research notebooks for them to find if he dies.

"If you insist," Danila answers before she starts coughing once more, a regular occurrence, he's noticed. Before she can stop coughing and resume talking to him, footsteps approach from the direction of the elevators and Sissel looks over, slowly raising an eyebrow in surprise at the person walking over.

Can't say he expected to see a Council Member tonight – but this has to be a good sign.

"Sissel, come with me, now," Theodosius commands him and Sissel obeys, silently following him towards the elevator waiting with a guard there.

Sissel looks back at his mentor, finding her watching with concern and he gives a non-committal shrug, "I told you I had a request for the Gamemakers."

"Yes, quite the request," Theodosius says as he puts a hand on Sissel's shoulder to push him into the elevator. The man towers over him, standing closer than Sissel would like and setting him defensively on edge as they head to a lower level. "I do hope you haven't told her anything about the research you have been doing. That's at a clearance level above her."

"I haven't," Sissel reassures him as the elevator stops and Theodosius leads him out, staying silent until they enter a room and he's directed to sit at the table. Sissel folds his hands in his lap as he watches Theodosius sit across from him, waiting for him to start the conversation. "Well?"

"Lisia has informed us of your request," Theodosius starts, studying Sissel closely who keeps his face neutral, not wanting to let him in on anything. "You do realize if we let you have a thunderbird, we'll be revealing it to everyone?"

"Pass it off as an arena mutt then," Sissel shrugs at him, not feeling like it's his problem to figure out that part of it. He's just here to use the mutt to kill and get out of the arena alive. "Tributes have used mutts in the past and I'll just be the latest to do so. I don't think it would be that unbelievable that I would do so after my interview."

Theodosius contemplates this silently and Sissel waits patiently for him, not wanting to say something wrong and make him decide not to agree. The Council Member is just like any of the birds of prey Sissel works with and he has to tread carefully and be patient, or risk getting hurt. "You also haven't given up information on the location of your research notes. Some people wouldn't like you trying to extort the Capitol like that."

Sissel watches Theodosius, seeing that he's not one of those people. "I'm about to enter the Games. I know what I need to do to survive, simple as that."

Theodosius laughs at this despite Sissel not joking around, "I like you, kid. That takes big balls to ask the Capitol for a mutt in the arena and threaten not to give them the information on the research that _they_ have been funding." Theodosius pauses, the smile fading from his face. "Here's your one and only deal. You tell us where the research data is and any other information that might not be in those notes, then you'll get your mutt."

Sissel opens his mouth to speak and Theodosius puts up his hand, stopping him. "Know that lying would be a very bad idea," Theodosius warns him. "If we find out you lied, we will search every inch of that facility until we find the data and we will remove your funding."

Sissel shakes his head rapidly at this, knowing he would never do that. He's not a dumbass. "I'm not going to lie and put the sanctuary on the line. Just dose me with that truth serum again if you're that untrusting and you'll see," Sissel finishes with a shrug and crosses his arms as he leans back in the chair. "So do we have a deal? I tell you the location of the research notes and you give me a thunderbird in the arena – _and _a chance to see first hand the training."

Theodosius is silent for a few long seconds as he folds his hands on the table in front of him and stares Sissel down, reminding Sissel of a bird of prey stalking its next meal. Finally, he holds out a hand to him, "I'm a man of my word. You'll get the bird, now tell me where the notes are."

Sissel takes his hand with no hesitation, knowing it's his best bet at surviving that arena. Theodosius crushes his hand a bit and doesn't let go until Sissel tells him the location. "It's underneath Pissy's cage," Sissel says and Theodosius raises his eyebrows at him. "My grandmother's macaw. Trust me, if you have to find the notes yourself, you'll see why it's there."

* * *

_Lisia Arune, Head Gamemaker_

Lisia sits at her desk, staring at the hologram map of the arena in front of her, knowing she should be sleeping right now but also knowing she won't get much sleep tonight. Not when her final Hunger Games starts in less than 24 hours from now. Everyone else is home, getting rest one last night before they get little sleep for however many days the Games last. But Lisia isn't like everyone else. No one else has the responsibility resting on her shoulders – even more than usual years since everyone is expecting her to make her biggest arena yet…

And damn it, she will not live down to expectations, even if it drives her insane.

So much pressure…most of it coming from herself. Lisia knows she has to go out with a bang, ending her time as Head Gamemaker on a good note – unlike her original mentor. But her need for drama over the years is biting her in the ass now as she has to somehow top everything she's done before.

Lisia zooms in on the cornucopia, studying the layout of the supplies, knowing that is going to frustrate some tributes tomorrow. But who cares if they are frustrated if it excites the Capitol? She slides her position on the map over to one of the closest buildings, studying the interior and its contents. She has to hope this will go smoothly…

Lisia shuts off the map, feeling stress wanting to overwhelm her, and she rests her head on her desk. "Stop worrying, Lisia, you're a boss ass bitch that can do this," she whispers to herself. "You have done this for years. You know the ins and outs of running the Hunger Games smoothly. You will not fail."

And yet…a part of her deep down is afraid that she is going to fail, and it's unsettling. She hasn't felt this way about the Games in…has she ever really? She doesn't think she has. But the previous years didn't have the pressure of it being her final Games. They didn't have the pressure of leaving behind a legacy.

A beep has her bringing her head up to press the button on her holo video chat as she sits up, facing one of the Council Members. "Bit late for a call, don't you think?" Lisia asks Rosabella, who shakes her head at her.

"Says the one still in her office at this time," Rosabella counters and Lisia can only give a shrug, having no other response. "Luciano and Theodosius have been handling some tribute related things and I've been talking with President Xavier about the rest."

Lisia reaches over into her desk drawer and pulls out paper and a pen, crossing her legs on her seat and using her knee to prop up the notepad. "I take it you have notes for me?"

"Of course," Rosabella answers with a laugh. "Most people don't call for fun at midnight the night before the Hunger Games start."

"Very well," Lisia says, holding back a yawn and taking a sip of coffee instead. "What do I need to know?"

Rosabella picks up her own piece of paper and begins reading off notes to her. "President Xavier has instructed you to keep a close eye on Rodrick Tang of District One and Jendaya Barrett of District Eleven, given their history of murder before the Games. Right now, the Capitol does not have a favorable view of Rodrick, but should this change, President Xavier is interested in exploring the possibility of allowing criminals to earn a pardon for their crimes by volunteering for the Games. As for Jendaya…the Capitol does not know that she murdered her husband and we would like to keep it that way. They like her right now, so don't do anything to her yet. But if either of them show signs of being dangerous…"

"Eliminate them," Lisia finishes for Rosabella, getting a nod of agreement. Lisia jots down a quick note before nodding at Rosabella. "Understood. Anyone else to potentially not let win?"

Rosabella shakes her head at this, "Not at this time, but you know how that can change in the arena. You know by now the tributes to watch for, those that go off the rails, get _too_ violent. But if there is anyone that needs to be eliminate, we will let you know. Now," Rosabella clears her throat and Lisia raises an eyebrow. "You know obviously what Sissel requested."

"Yes, can't say I ever had that happen before," Lisia chuckles, not believing the balls it took to request that. "What have you decided?"

"Theodosius has approved it," Rosabella tells her, making Lisia raises both eyebrows in surprise and just blink at her a couple times. "Yes, I know, it's surprising. But he wants to see the thunderbird in action."

"Won't people find it odd that a tribute is using the only mutt different than the others as a weapon?" Lisia asks, wondering how they possibly could have decided to approve this. "Might bring some concern."

Rosabella sighs loudly, clearly having already thought about this. "We are aware… I'm sorry to ask this about you last minute, but do you have any other mutts you can add into the arena and let tributes use to make the thunderbird not as unusual?"

"Of course I do," Lisia answers before letting out her own sigh as she jots down some notes. "I'll look in the catalog of the easiest to add last minute from previous years."

"Thank you," Rosabella smiles at her. "I know you have a lot of pressure on you right now with everything and I'll let you go soon. Just one final thing…"

"Yes?"

"Pascal talked about the rebels," Rosabella starts slowly and Lisia keeps her face neutral as she watches the Council Member as she hesitates with what she says. "Revealed a lot of valuable information to us."

"Just tell me what you want me to do with him."

"That's the thing," Rosabella answers quietly, shaking her head. "President Xavier isn't sure."

* * *

*****SUBMITTER CHECK IN*** If you have a tribute in this story, please send me a message (on here or on discord) telling me...your tribute's favorite holiday in modern AU. Sure, why not XD**

**And with that, we have officially reached the end of the pre-Games! Buckle up everyone because on June 19th, we will have the bloodbath! I don't have an exact time set yet, but once I do I will post it on my profile in the Story Schedule section so keep an eye out for that! I can't believe we're already at the bloodbath - it feels like the pre-Games went by so fast for this story. **

**Of course, we had to end the pre-Games with some spicy stuff! Are you surprised by the choice Pascal made to reveal info (and just what will happen to him)? Just what will Sissel do in the arena with a thunderbird? And of course, we had another check in with Lisia to see how she's handling the start of her final Games!**

**RQ #20: **You know it, it's time for some predictions! Who do you think will die in the bloodbath?

**Well, I think that's all I have to say here. Get hyped for the bloodbath! I've been impatiently waiting to reach this point so I am excited for the Games to officially start! I will see you all on June 19th!**


	25. Hell On Earth

**Chapter 21:**

_Lisia Arune, Head Gamemaker_

"And here you are," Fabio says as he hands Lisia a tall cup of coffee, preparing her for the long restless time ahead of them. Lisia takes it and holds it close to her with both hands as she stares at the screens ahead of her as Fabio hands Seraphim his own cup – that boy is as much a coffee fiend as Lisia is, which is quite the accomplishment. Seraphim sits quietly by her side, just taking in everything, which Lisia appreciates. She doesn't think she could handle a large amount of questions right now. She just can't take her eyes away from the screens, knowing that this will be her last time ever launching a set of tributes into the arena, the last time she'll feel this anticipation twisting her stomach, the last time she'll make this year's Games the most talked about thing.

She's going to miss all of this when it's over. But it's far from over.

"Let's get this show started," Lisia speaks up, instructing her Gamemakers sitting below as they wait for their cue to start. "You know the drill with the cameras, tributes first, then arena. But not too much, keep the audience waiting to see everything I have planned."

The tributes are brought into their launch tubes and slowly make their way up into Lisia's final arena, something she has spent many sleepless nights perfecting. As they get their first glimpse of the arena, they're blinded by dazzling sunlight and a crystal blue sky, not a single cloud to give them shade from the heat. But the cameras don't zoom out yet to show the audience the arena the tributes are in, taking the time to show the faces and reactions of each tribute first.

At the northernmost point of the arena stands Aberforth, carefully looking around to determine where his allies are and who is placed near him. To his left, Ally and Pascal share a moment of relief at being placed close to each other, before Pascal starts looking around and shouting for Betula. On the other side of Pascal is Sissel, who studies the supplies at the cornucopia with that careful calculating gaze of his before glancing around for his allies. Iroha on his left surprises Lisia with the way she is already preparing herself to get supplies, even if she keeps glancing nervously at Orin on her left, who stands there looking around at the supplies and tributes near zim, not looking bothered at all about the upcoming bloodbath.

But Sasha seems quite alarmed at being placed on Orin's left, yet she braces herself to grab a bag nearby that she is eyeing up. Jendaya, meanwhile, is looking at Sasha and Orin standing between her and Iroha, looking like the last thing she wants to do is get involved in a fight with one of them. But she just might not be able to avoid getting in the way of _something_, given the way Grey is intensely watching Sasha from the left of Jendaya, hyperfocused on her and ignoring his other allies. Dresden is looking away from the potential drama to his right, focusing instead on the supplies in front of him and getting to his ally Margaery. Betula has a defeated look on their face as they look at the tributes separating them and their allies.

The tribute to the left of Betula isn't ignoring them, something they take notice of and they start to tremble in fear. Rodrick is eyeing out the knives scattered around the cornucopia and both Betula on his right and Samis to his left, ready to do exactly what is expected of him. Samis doesn't seem like he wants to risk it at all for supplies with Rodrick next to him, but a small bag close to him seems to tempt him. Kaz isn't focusing at all on the tributes on either side of him, much to the relief of Artem on his left, instead focused entirely on the cornucopia at the center of them all and getting ready to run right for it. Artem is staring over at Grey and occasionally glancing down at his leg and the crutch he holds, fear on his face at the chances of him making it to Grey unharmed. On Artem's left, Laine is looking around for his allies, but growing more tempted by the supplies in front of him with each passing second. But so is Margaery next to him and it's clear both of them will try their luck.

Marian is braced to run straight into the action to the left of Margaery, seemingly decided on her target being the boy next to her. Grant looks defeated before the Games have even started, placed between Marian and Nativity. But Nativity isn't focused on Grant after sharing a look with Marian and the girl from Two giving her a not so subtle look not to take her kill, instead focusing on the tributes to her left. Gwenith doesn't seem to be paying any attention to Nativity, instead searching for Grey who is on nearly the complete opposite side of the cornucopia from her. And finally there's Asha, going back and forth between seeming determined to go in and get supplies and too afraid to risk it with careers nearby.

The cameras finally pan out to show off the arena Lisia has painstakingly designed. The cornucopia and the tributes surrounding it stand in the middle of a barren, destroyed land, the ground covered in ash and broken rubble. Buildings partially stand in the area, providing some cover for the tributes, something they will certainly want when the mutts start roaming the area. But to the north and south of the launch area, the arena has two similar, yet opposite sections. Seven buildings stand unbroken among the rubble on each side, six lining the edge of the arena and one grander building in the center, all made out of a different color marble. The buildings are massive to contain what lies in wait inside, but also to make sure the tributes know to go there. If the appearance doesn't make them go there, they'll have a reason soon enough.

The timer finishes the countdown to zero and Lisia clenches her coffee mug tightly in anticipation for the bloodbath, unable to move or take her eyes away from the screens as the gong sounds and her final Hunger Games begins.

The careers are the first ones off of their pedestals, with Kaz running straight for the cornucopia and Aberforth following his lead, albeit at a much slower pace with his legs. But the other four careers…they have all set their eyes on targets and don't seem content to end the bloodbath without a kill at their hands. The first tribute to be tackled to the ground is Grant, the boy struggling against Marian as she lets out a cry and grabs his head, killing him instantly with a twist of his neck.

"One," Lisia counts aloud quietly, afraid to blink in case she misses something.

The next tribute to fall is right near Grant. Gwenith cries out for Grey as she starts running towards him, but if he hears her, he doesn't run towards her, leaving her to fall victim to Nativity as she drives a knife into her chest. Both are taken by surprise when the knife disintegrates after striking Gwenith, leaving her to fall to the ground and bleed out faster as Nativity goes towards the cornucopia for a better weapon that she won't find.

"Two."

One tribute is trying to race to the other side of the cornucopia to reach their allies, but Betula doesn't have a chance of making it to Pascal and Ally. Not when Rodrick has set his eyes on them as his first target. With a quick stab to the neck, Betula falls to the ground, clutching their throat pouring out blood as Pascal lets out a cry at the sight of them dying, only to quickly get pulled away from there by Ally who clutches a bag she grabbed, barely holding back tears.

"Three."

Despite having appeared almost bored before the Games started, once the gong sounded, Orin leapt into action, showing the most energy Lisia has seen from zim in the entire time ze were in the Capitol. Orin has zir target and quickly picks up a knife before running over to Sasha as she ducks down to pick up a bag. As she stands up, she lets out a scream at Orin standing before her and barely has time to dodge a swing from Orin's knife, making the blade land in her side before falling apart. Sasha cries out as she tries to use her cane to smack Orin away, but ze don't even blink an eye as ze stop the cane in zir hand. But suddenly, Orin gets tackled to the ground and with zir knife disintegrated, ze have nothing to defend zimself against Grey as he drives a knife deep into zir chest. Ze cough blood in his face before he quickly gets up, holding out his hand to Sasha who stares at him with tearstained eyes. She soon takes his hand, finally agreeing to his alliance after he saved her, letting him lead her over to where Artem is doing his best to get over to them so they can escape, the boy from Five crying over witnessing Gwenith dying.

"Four."

Around the cornucopia, most of the tributes are daring to get supplies. Iroha has grabbed a knife and bag close to her, all the while watching Orin to make sure ze were not going to come near her. Jendaya starts running forward, but stops to let Grey race pass, before heading closer to the cornucopia than she seems comfortable with in order to grab a larger bag and to race around the conflict happening there. Jendaya reaches her ally safely, taking her arm as the pair gets out of there unscathed.

In the northern section, Asha was starting to run for a bag, but when she witnessed Gwenith get killed not too far from her, she quickly ran away from the career and towards Sissel, cursing under her breath that she didn't grab a bag. Sissel starts to run in to the cornucopia, but as he got a bit closer and realized there were only knives, he grabs one from the ground and a bag as Asha approaches. They both look around for Laine as he is tempted by a bag as he runs towards them, a bag Margaery also wants. The girl from Five makes no acknowledgement on her face as she drives a knife into his chest and rips the bag away from him before running over to Dresden, her ally staring at her with wide eyes of surprise, before the pair runs away from the cornucopia. With Laine dead, Asha and Sissel quickly run away before their alliance can take any other loss as the careers at the cornucopia are starting to look their way, the last of the tributes to be there.

"Five."

Lisia sits back in her chair, taking a long sip of her coffee as the action comes to a stop and she feels like she can finally breath. "Five deaths, a decent bloodbath," Lisia mutters to herself, nodding her head. She can live with that. More tributes alive now means more to explore her arena. "Fire the cannons."

The five cannons sound in the arena as the five remaining careers stand around the cornucopia, looking over at where Orin's body lays in various levels of surprise. It's not every year that a career gets killed in the bloodbath and clearly none of them expected that. And mixed with their surprise is the confusion over just what happened with the knives.

The cameras soon move to show the other remaining tributes as they head out into the arena. They'll be quite spread out throughout the arena, which is perfect for Lisia. She wants her final arena to be fully explored and it's easier for the tributes to do it on their own rather than for her to force them to explore. Running northwest, Asha and Sissel only slow slightly at the cannons sounding, but keep running, their path starting to veer west towards the closest of the buildings.

Ally drags Pascal with her, the boy trying to hold it all together after witnessing the horrors of the bloodbath. She is leading him right towards the biggest building in the center of the north, which will work out perfectly for Lisia's plans.

Iroha and Jendaya are heading directly east, the pair seemingly not trusting the buildings. Smart pair. But Lisia knows they'll soon realize the value of the buildings and it is only a matter of time before they seek them out.

Grey is leading Sasha and Artem along to the southeast, supporting Sasha as she keeps a hand pressed to the wound in her side. Grey keeps glancing back over his shoulder, making sure the careers aren't following them. But as their pace begins to slow, Grey becomes more concerned with Sasha's bleeding and he soon finds a broken building for them to hide in so he can tend to his ally.

Heading mostly south, Samis runs alone, continuing to glance around nervously as he makes sure no one is near him. And he doesn't have to worry, not when the next closest tributes, Margaery and Dresden, are heading to the southwest, towards a building that Lisia just might need to drive a different tribute towards.

The cameras come back to the careers as Marian sifts through the cornucopia, finding only knives there. She picks one up, studying the blade up close and finding the small print written on each of them near the handle. "It says 'Single Use Only'… What the hell does that mean?"

"You'll figure it out soon enough," Lisia tells Marian, even if the career can't hear her. Lisia can't wait to see how long it takes all of the tributes to figure out the gimmick with the knives and to realize that there _are_ better weapons out there in the arena. They just have to be willing to take a big risk.

"So what do you think?" Lisia asks Seraphim, swiveling her chair to face him directly. She holds back an amused smile when she sees the look of awe and bewilderment on his face at seeing the bloodbath happen behind the scenes, remembering just what it was like her first time in this room. But her first Games had a much different start than this, something she has actively tried to prevent in her years as Head Gamemaker.

"I don't even know what to think," Seraphim answers honestly, still staring at all the screens tracking each tribute as they head further into the arena. "Except I can't wait to keep watching and see what happens when they reach the temples."

"That makes two of us," Lisia answers before turning her chair back around, wondering just who will be the first one to reach them. She takes a deep breath, letting herself get relaxed so she can focus on the upcoming days to ensure these Games are her best yet. "And now…let the 137th Hunger Games truly begin."

* * *

**Indeed, let the Games begin! Welcome to Lisia's final arena where she is not holding back at all and pulling all the stops!**

**Eulogies:**

_22nd - Grant Gallitan-Montgomery [11], Killed by Marian [2]:_

_Grant was one of the non-featured tributes who we could have seen more of if he was willing to ally with people or if he was in a featured spot. It was just hard to get the depth of his bipolar disorder diagnosis in as a non-featured tribute. I knew he was going into the bloodbath in a depressive state and there was a slim chance of him making it out of it alive. Unfortunately someone has to go first and this time, it was Grant. Thank you ray. 51 for sending him! RIP Grant._

_21st - Gwenith Drezzel [8], Killed by Nativity [1]:_

_A lot of you predicted that something like this would happen to one of Grey's allies, and for good reason. I knew he would become way too fixated on Sasha refusing his alliance and when seeing her threatened, would forget all about his actual allies in order to go help her. Unfortunately, Gwenith happened to be the poor ally that lost her life because of Grey's neglect. But honestly, it's better for her to go now than continue to get dragged along by Grey, who she unfortunately was too trusting of after everything that's happened in her life. Thank you Brooke2214 for sending her! RIP Gwenith._

_20th - Betula Washington [7], Killed by Rodrick [1]:_

_Betula was one that I always knew was going to die in the bloodbath. With how much they had given up on their life before this point, it was just inevitable. But they died with the peace of having found good allies - dare I even say a friend in Pascal - and knowing they died and had the career focus on them rather than their allies would bring comfort to them in their final moments. Thank you 20 for sending them! RIP Betula._

_19th - Orin Rensch [4], Killed by Grey [8]:_

_I imagine this death caught people the most by surprise. I knew I wanted to have a career death to spice things up in this bloodbath and unfortunately Orin ended up as that person. I knew it would mean sacrificing seeing zim in action in the arena, and it was a tough choice to make deciding which career went now. You know me, I always love careers so it's hard killing any of them in the bloodbath, but you know I had to do it to 'em. It had to be Orin because I just couldn't see any of the other careers attacking Sasha and knew I needed that to happen for my arena plans. Orin really did not care who ze killed and ze just happened to make the mistake of picking the one tribute Grey would be willing to protect completely. Thank you Goldie for sending zim! RIP Orin._

_18th - Laine Lawson [9], Killed by Margaery [5]:_

_Laine was one of the few normal tributes in a very abnormal cast of tributes, which made him unfortunately fall to the background. There's always a couple tributes who try to risk it for some supplies, but it wasn't in his cards to successfully get his supplies AND get to his allies that were on the opposite side of the arena. Not his fault that he wound up next to the sociopath who had no qualms about killing over a bag. And so his time has come. Thank you dsalazz for sending him! RIP Laine._

**I know, a relatively small bloodbath, but with the arena I have planned, I wanted to keep a lot of tributes alive to show off all the different parts! And yeah, I also couldn't bring myself to kill off any of the featured tributes because they're all so good lol. ****Just what is up with those Single Use Knives? And just what could be waiting within the temples? All will be revealed soon! And it will be soon, I'm hyped to get moving on these Games XD**

**The blog is now updated with the arena page, which features the bloodbath arrangement, arena map, and the has/needs list for everyone! In addition,**** sponsoring is now open and is done through the google form link that is on my profile (and the blog!). It's going to operate a bit differently than in the past. I'll be keeping the base price and increasing it at the final 8, as well as having gifts cost half price for non-featured tributes. In addition, the day that tributes receive their gifts will depend on...something. I'm not saying what yet and will leave it up for you to figure out for now, but some will get gifts on odd numbered days and some on even numbered days.**

**RQ #21:** Did anything in the bloodbath surprise you?

**One last reminder that Renegades tribute subs are still open at this time, but only until next Wednesday, June 24th! I've closed some spots but any spot that isn't closed at this time is fair game! So if you haven't subbed yet, now is definitely the time to do so :)**

**Alrighty, I will see you all soon with Day One! I think I'm gonna aim for Monday updates whenever I have a chapter finished, so be prepared for the possibility of an update on that day XD And as always, I'll keep updating my schedule on my profile so if you're ever curious to see what I have written, just check there! Can't wait to kick these Games into high gear!**


	26. Day One: The Hunt Is On

**Chapter 22:**

_Day One_

_Aberforth Barringer, 18, District Four_

The metallic scent of blood lingers in the air, the ground shaking booms of the cannons still echo in his ears, and a whole lot of doubt fills Abel. His stomach is still twisting from the violence of it all…violence that he _knows_ he signed up for when he volunteered for the Games, and yet… He didn't realize just what it would be like once he stepped foot in the arena.

He didn't expect the horror he would feel watching his fellow allies kill so effortlessly and without a care about how violent they were being when taking a life. Marian freaking snapped someone's _neck_ to kill him… And these knives they've been given… They only make things worse, letting tributes bleed out faster. And then his District partner…never did Abel expect to see Orin go down in the bloodbath, yet ze did. How the hell did he manage to survive the bloodbath when the actual chosen volunteer for District Four went down so quickly? Orin's death weighs heavier on Abel than he expected, given zir closed off nature and unwillingness to open up to him. But ze were from home…in all of this, ze might have been the only one Abel could maybe count on to not betray him in the back because of District unity or something. Or maybe ze would have, Abel has no idea what Orin would have done in the Games if ze were given the chance. It doesn't matter now, nothing will bring zim back, and Abel has to accept that he's District Four's only hope now of victory. He doubts anyone has their hopes too high about him winning.

Abel just stood there and watched them all fight, knowing with his pathetic legs he wouldn't be able to chase anyone down. Watched them tear down the competition without blinking an eye. And the worst part is, Abel can feel a deep pang of jealousy in him towards them that they did what he couldn't do in the bloodbath, they have the attention of the Capitol and the ones who will ultimately decide their fates. Yet he resents the fact that he feels jealousy towards people who would kill so callously.

_What in the world did Abel get himself into? _

The three allies of his that killed don't seem too hung up on it, certainly not as much as Abel is when he didn't even kill anyone. Marian's just been pacing and ranting away about the single-use knives they've been given, debating testing out how they work on her hand and continuously being told by Tiv how dumb of an idea that is if she gets an infection from it. Rodrick has been gathering supplies, trying to be discreet about putting together a bag for himself, but everyone is aware of what he's doing. None of them are pretending that this alliance is going to last. Except for poor Kaz. Abel feels awful that Kaz seems unaware of how dysfunctional this alliance is, or if he is aware, he's trying so hard to keep them together.

"We need to find better weapons," Rodrick tells the group.

Marian rolls her eyes at him, "No shit, Sherlock. I don't know about you but I really don't want to fight with a knife that falls apart after one hit."

"You didn't have an issue fighting without a knife in the bloodbath," Tiv points out, using one of said knives to clean dried blood out from under her nails.

Kaz is biting his nails as he paces around in front of the cornucopia, staring out at the arena around them and looking deep in thought. Abel can tell he's getting overwhelmed by the bickering between their three other allies, so Abel tries to get him to talk. "What are you thinking about Kaz?"

Kaz turns towards him, blinking a few times before glancing at the other three who now have their attention on them, since it's the first Abel has really spoken up since the bloodbath ended. "My gut is telling me we need to go to those buildings," Kaz says, pointing over at one of the large ones in the center of the smaller ones. "Yet it feels like a big trap like I would find in a game of Dungeons and Dragons back home."

"Oh it's most definitely a trap," Marian comments immediately with a scoff. "But look around us, there's nowhere else for us to go, so clearly we need to go there. Lisia will want us to go. And hell, maybe there's something useful in there."

"It does seem suspicious with the knives," Rodrick adds, his face unreadable to Abel. "We should go searching before tributes get too far away."

"I'm sure as hell not sitting around here all day," Marian says, grabbing a bag and shoving some food and water into it right away. "And I'm not waiting around for whoever wants to come with me."

"I'm not letting you get kills that should be mine," Rodrick retorts back at her, standing up to stare her down. Marian just puffs up her chest and stands taller, not backing down from his glare. "We could cover more ground by splitting up, I'll go alone."

"No you won't," Tiv chuckles at his poor attempt to leave them already. Rodrick turns his glare towards her for a moment but Tiv could care less. "Why don't you boys stay here why us girls show you how it's done?"

"Yeah, and then you two will just leave!" Rodrick answers, his voice beginning to rise. Abel can see Kaz growing more overwhelmed and stressed out by their allies with each passing second, and as much as Abel doesn't want to get in the middle of their conflict, he wants to see Kaz suffering even less.

"Okay, okay, everyone relax," Abel says as he gets up, his legs stiff and reminding him just how much of a disadvantage he's at here compared to his allies. He moves over towards them to stand between Rodrick and Marian. "How about three go out and two stay back to guard supplies? There's still a few alliances out there and regardless of us being trained, we shouldn't get caught alone at this point."

"Yeah but who will want to stay back? I don't," Marian answers, crossing her arms at him and looking him over with a sneer. "Why don't you stay back so you don't slow us down?"

Abel knew they have all been thinking this about them – his eyes work just fine – but still…it hurts to have them tell him straight to his face that they don't want him around because they think he's just going to weigh them down. Another pang of envy goes through him towards them with their perfect legs, but he squashes down that feeling as much as he can, knowing it's not going to get him anywhere. He just doesn't want any unnecessary fights starting now…and later he'll prove her wrong. "Sure, I can stay back. I think Kaz should go with you."

Marian contemplates this for a few long seconds, her face making Abel just a little worried about what she's thinking about, before shrugging and waving her hand at Kaz. "Alright Kaz, let's go."

"Wait, what about me? I don't want to sit around here!" Tiv protests, realizing that by not speaking up sooner, she is getting the short stick.

Marian shrugs at her as Kaz gathers up some supplies, "Maybe your pretty brain should have been more focused on the next steps, not your appearance."

Tiv starts sputtering at this, before starting to laugh at Marian who gives her a wink, letting her know that she's just teasing. "Fine, fine, I'll keep this pretty ass here. Now get moving so I can watch that ass leaving."

Abel looks away from their flirting, a little uncomfortable at just how close those two seem to be with each other. He doesn't get how they can act that way in a death match… Instead, he focuses on Kaz as he gets ready to leave. "Will you be alright with them?" Abel asks him quietly, concerned for his ally.

Kaz looks over at him and gives him a timid smile. "Yes, I will be. Thank you for the concern."

"No problem," Abel answers quietly, but part of him questions why he's even concerned about Kaz in the first place. "Stay safe out there."

Kaz nods his head in agreement before heading after Marian and Rodrick, the boy from One too impatient to keep waiting around for them.

"Ugh, I can't believe she just left me behind like that!" Tiv complains as she flops down on the ground with a dramatic sigh.

Abel watches her for a few seconds, worried he's underestimating just how much of a threat she is from her behavior now, before moving a bit away from her to stretch out his legs, still watching his allies leave. He just hopes he doesn't regret sending Kaz out alone with Marian and Rodrick… But Marian will keep an eye on her District partner…right?

* * *

_Grey Pendleton, 17, District Eight_

"Grey," Artem calls out from behind him and Grey shushes him without turning back, knowing they're still too close to the cornucopia to be talking loudly. "Is she…going to be alright?"

Grey lets out a loud sigh as he slowly turns to face Artem, the boy sniffling as he tries not to cry. "Artem, we really need to be quiet here. We're still too close to the careers." He waits until Artem nods his head obediently before turning back to where Sasha sits in front of him, her hand pressed against the wound in her side. As he looks at the blood staining her shirt, a flash of anger goes through him at the person who did this to her, but he quickly extinguishes that feeling, knowing he took zir life. Ze can't keep hurting her anymore. All he could see in that moment was Quill getting hurt and he couldn't stand back and let it happen, he had to save her.

"That was really reckless, you know," Grey tells Sasha as he digs through their bags, finding only a few items, but at the very least a first aid kit. "Going for supplies when right next to a career. You could have gotten killed, you know. You would have if I hadn't been there to save you from zim. I risked my life for you."

"I know," Sasha's face is definitely paler than usual and she shuts her eyes as a grimace of pain goes over her face. Grey knows he needs to stop the bleeding, but he wants to make sure she knows just what he did for her. "I…thanks," Sasha says quietly, clearly struggling with accepting someone else helping her, but she does. And that's all Grey needs to hear.

"I'm just glad you could see I'm here to help you. Now lets get you patched up," Gray says as he opens up the first aid kit, finding barely enough for patching up a stab wound, but he'll make it work. "Let me see this wound."

Sasha slowly lifts up her shirt, wincing in pain from the movement pulling at the wound in her side. Her hand is shaking as she glances down at it before quickly shutting her eyes. "For how much time I spent in a hospital and around doctors, you would think blood wouldn't bother me."

"Your injury was internal, not a stab wound like this," Grey says quietly as he opens up a disinfectant wipe and presses it to the wound, ignoring her whimper from it stinging. "Which I still cannot believe that your mother didn't believe you. I-" Grey cuts off to shake his head in anger at the woman he's never met for letting Sasha get hurt like that. "I'd never let anyone I was watching get hurt like that. And I'm not going to let you get hurt again, as long as you listen to what I say. Artem listened to me and he didn't get injured, right Artem?"

Grey gives Artem an expectant look as he tosses the wipe aside. The young boy slowly nods his head obediently. "Right…" he starts slowly, but Grey can see he's on the verge of tears. "But…what about Gwenith…?" Artem asks quietly, trying to hold back tears, yet a quiet sob slips out that Grey gives him a scolding look about. "She…"

"She ran in recklessly," Grey tells him, shaking his head at his fallen ally's actions. "She didn't listen to what I told her to do at the start of the Games and, well…she paid the price. I told her just to get to safety and I would get her. There was only so much I could do for her if she didn't want to listen…"

Grey gives both of them pointed looks to get his point across. They can live longer if they listen to him. He's been preparing for this for a while now, always keeping in shape for the inevitable possibility of the Reaping, but doubled down when he knew he'd be volunteering for Quill. Artem, he isn't worried about listening to him. That boy has shown how desperately he wants someone to be looking out for him and to be his friend. But Sasha…she's been as stubborn as possible right up until the Games started and he knows he has to work harder to make her understand that she needs him.

"Luckily for you, I have some experience sewing," Grey tells Sasha as he holds up the single packet of stitches. "Better hope we don't need any more stitches since this is the only set we have…"

"I'll try not to get stabbed again," Sasha tells him, wincing once more when he grabs the wound to pinch it closed to stitch it. "I can firmly say it's not on my list of favorite things. Not sure what's worse, having a stroke or getting stabbed."

"Well I won't let either option happen to you again," Grey says as he does his best to stitch up the wound. It's…not the shallowest, but probably won't be lethal. But he'll be damned if he doesn't do everything to save her. "You're my allies and I am going to do everything I can to protect you from the others."

Until it's down to the very end, of course. Or if he needs to make a point to one of them again, just like Gwenith was an example. Because if it comes down to it, Grey will choose getting home to Quill over either of their lives.

"There we go," Grey smiles at Sasha as he sits back and looks over his handy work. "You're lucky you have someone from Eight as your ally who can sew. Turns out, stitching up a wound isn't that different."

"Thank you," Sasha answers quietly, leaning back and resting as pain washes over her face. Grey takes out their small bottle of water and helps her take a slow sip before brushing back her hair from her sweating forehead. "I'm sorry I didn't accept your alliance sooner… Maybe if I had, I wouldn't have been dumb and gotten stabbed."

"You realized the mistake before it was _too_ late," Grey tells her with a sigh. "But yes, you're right. We could have avoided this injury in the first place. But no more of that. We need to focus now on our next steps."

Artem nods his head in agreement right away, never the one Grey had to worry about listening to him. Sasha agrees much slower, but agrees nonetheless. "Do you think we can rest here for the evening?" Artem asks tentatively, worry in his eyes as he looks over at Sasha. "I don't know if she can move much more."

Grey sighs loudly at this. "I didn't want to stay this close to the careers, but I don't think we have a choice with Sasha's injury. We should be hidden enough, but we can't make much noise and definitely no fires tonight."

"Can I have more water?" Sasha asks quietly and Grey immediately shakes his head.

"Absolutely not," Grey says to both of them. "We only have this small bottle to share between three people. It has to be rationed. I'll hold onto it since I'm the oldest and most responsible of the three of us. But…" His brain was turning, thinking through their feeble supplies and where the others are in the arena. "We desperately need food. We have to get some now before it's too late. I had hoped to get some from the cornucopia, but got sidetracked by Sasha. And so…I have to go out and find some."

"But we don't have any weapons," Artem protests, deep concern on his face for Gray. "What if you find someone and they attack you? Or what if someone finds us?"

"You'll need to do what I say here and you won't get discovered," Grey pats his shoulder and gives him a reassuring smile. "You need to trust me, Artem. I'm not going to let you get harmed. Now both of you sit tight and don't leave here, and don't make any noise," Gray tells the pair as he stands up. Artem gives him a concerned look that he quickly brushes off, while Sasha looks too exhausted from her wound to put much energy into concern. They won't be going anywhere, but just in case… He picks up their bag of supplies to make sure they don't leave without him, "I'm going to find us some food."

* * *

_Iroha Kinoshita, 18, District Six_

All things considered, they weren't in the worst shape. Iroha had honestly been ready to write off having Jenny as an ally before the bloodbath started when there was a career standing between them. She wasn't about to risk her life for a woman she just met a week ago, especially when her baby girl Melita is waiting for her in the Capitol and Noah was back in Six, hopefully with someone that is protecting him from Kayden…

But they got lucky that the career went after Sasha and Grey was so focused on saving her that Jenny and Iroha were able to get out of there _and_ with two bags full of supplies. They have food, plenty of water, bandages, a knife…hell, even the sleeping bag isn't a bad thing to have. Who knows how cold the nights will be.

No injuries, ample food and water, and her ally still alive… There were certainly worse ways to start out the Hunger Games.

They both were in agreement that the buildings were sketchy and they would stay away from the buildings unless they absolutely had to. Lisia Arune has a reputation and with everything they've seen so far in these Games, well, they'd be stupid to walk right in.

"Jenny, can we stop please?" Iroha finally asks, feigning being out of breath as her ally turns around to face her. She put a hand on her stomach and gave her an apologetic smile. "Sorry, I'm not back to my full strength yet from the surgery, but should be in another day or two."

It wasn't a complete lie – the wound is still red and healing, but certainly not an open wound. But Iroha mostly wants to conserve her strength.

Jenny looks like she wants to protest this as she glances ahead of them, but as she looks over at Iroha's stomach, she knows Jenny is going to give in. "Okay, we can pause for an hour or two. But I'd like to get some more space between us and the careers."

"Yeah, we can keep moving before nightfall for sure," Iroha said quietly, glancing up at the late afternoon sun and trying to judge how much time they have before it goes down. Her gaze turns downwards, looking west in the direction they came from. "One can only hope they're still trying to regroup after the loss of one of their own."

"Good riddance," Jenny mutters under her breath as she sits down on a piece of rubble, shaking her head at the careers. Iroha sits on a piece nearby, tossing her bag into the pile in front of them. "Quite fortunate for us that one of them died in the bloodbath. If only it wasn't more of them."

"That would be too lucky," Iroha jokes back, a little surprised when Jenny lets out a chuckle. She keeps her head down, studying Jenny discretely as she leans back on the rock, soaking in the sun and fanning herself. Iroha doesn't trust her for one minute and won't sleep much around her. There's too much waiting for her to lose because she trusted someone she just met to not stab her in the back. Honestly, it's best that she just operates under the assumption that Jenny _will_ stab her in the back if given the opportunity. She won't lose because she let herself get attached to Jenny. She won't let her children grow up without their mother. Even just the thought of Noah and Melita being motherless is enough to make her want to keep moving.

"We should plan out what we do next," Jenny says, shielding her eyes from the sun to better look at Iroha. "You know, find a place to camp, those sorts of things. We definitely need to keep moving every day. And probably some shade because that sun is _hot_."

"Agreed," Iroha comments as she lays back, letting her body relax for a little bit. But she keeps her head turned in the direction of the cornucopia, wanting to be prepared if the careers decide to come this way. "And those buildings are most definitely a trap."

"Absolutely," Jenny says with a scoff. "I don't trust anything in this arena, _especially_ those buildings."

Iroha lets out a noise of agreement and they fall into silence for a bit, just relaxing as they lay in the sun. If she shuts her eyes, she could almost pretend for a moment that she's not in the Games. And weirdly…despite being in the arena, she hasn't felt this free in years. So far removed from Kayden's control, in a place where even he can't touch here.

After a while, she hears some rustling in the bags. "Hey can you pass me a bottle of water while you're grabbing stuff?"

"I'm not-" Jenny cuts off as Iroha opens up her eyes as she sits up immediately, fear coursing through her when she realizes neither of them are in their bags right now.

Crouched over the bags is that bastard boy from Eight and when Grey realizes they have noticed him, he swings a bag over his shoulder and stands up right away. Iroha jumps towards him, anger coursing through her that this man thinks he can come here and steal _her_ supplies. Grey kicks her in the stomach, making her immediately bend over as she gasps for air. Momentary panic fills her as she clutches her stomach, having to remind herself that her baby girl isn't there anymore and he didn't just hurt her baby.

Jenny launches herself towards him, slashing their only knife at his arm. He gasps in surprise at the cut she made, but Jenny is more surprised when the knife disintegrates after cutting him. Grey uses this moment to shove Jenny back and she barely catches herself before her head would have slammed into a stone, before running away with them, taking one of their bags with him.

"Shi-" Iroha tries to gasp out, still struggling to get air into her lungs from Grey kicking her. She falls to the ground as Jenny sits up, nearly starting to get up to go after him, before realizing he's too far ahead and they now have no weapons.

"How did that happen?" Jenny asks in disbelief as she moves over to their remaining bag and starts digging through it right away, shaking her head as she pulls out the items. "No, no, no… Damn it, he took half our food and the larger bottle of water, _and_ the first aid kit."

Iroha finally starts to catch her breath and looks over at Jenny, feeling like an idiot for letting herself relax for even a single moment in this arena. She's lucky she didn't get killed by Grey… Absentmindedly, she pulls up her shirt to look at the incision on her stomach, which thankfully was healed enough to not reopen from his kick. Still, she can feel the bruising in her stomach as she tries to move. "Did he-" Iroha stops to cough a bit, still struggling to get air into her lungs. "He didn't take all the food, did he?"

"No," Jenny answers quietly and Iroha can hear the anger in her voice. "Damn it, I knew from the moment I saw him that he was an asshole. He needs to pay for that."

"With what?" Iroha asks, honestly questioning Jenny. "We don't have a weapon anymore. What even happened with that knife?"

"I don't know," Jenny says, her tone uncertain and even with a hint of…fear? "I cut him on the arm and it just completely disintegrated in my hand."

"Another one of her arena tricks, no doubt," Iroha grumbles as her breathing finally starts to return to normal.

"I hate to be the one to say it," Jenny starts slowly and Iroha is already shaking her head at however she's going to finish that statement. "But we need to search for food and weapons now. And…"

"Fuck," Iroha mutters under her breath as she follows Jenny's gaze over to the closest building, realizing just how screwed they are now. No weapons, half their food and water taken away… She slowly looks over at Jenny, her ally having a similar look on her face as she no doubt has the same realization as Iroha. They didn't want to go there yet, both of them not trusting for one minute that it's not a huge trap. But now… "We have to go to one of the buildings."

* * *

**There we have Day One! I'll be splitting it up into day and night chapters until we are at the halfway point, so next chapter will be Night One and we'll check in with the rest of the featured tributes! I'm honestly surprised with myself for getting this chapter done in the week lol, I always struggle with the arena chapters that are mainly just check in chapters XD But then I got the idea for Grey stealing supplies from Iroha and Jenny and the rest of the chapter wrote quickly, so here we are!**

**Not much else for me to say here. Any sponsor gifts will either be received in Night One or on Day Two, depending on the tribute. The blog is updated with each chapter to reflect changes, as well as the map now having locations marked for each tribute/alliance. And yes, we're going to see soon just what is inside those buildings lol. Trust me, I'm just as impatient as you are to get there lol.**

**RQ #22:** On a scale of 1 to 10, how much of a bitch boy is Grey this chapter?

**Alright, see you all probably in a week or two with Night One!**


	27. Night One: Deception and Death

**Chapter 23:**

_Night One_

_Pascal Flores, 12, District Seven_

He doesn't deserve to be here. He doesn't deserve to be in the arena in the first place, let alone surviving past the bloodbath when his ally didn't. He certainly doesn't deserve to receive a knife. Ally deserved the food she got, but Pascal? He doesn't deserve to have something to defend himself with now, not after he couldn't do anything to defend Betula.

_They were just trying to get to him._

"Pascal," Ally calls to him as he keeps stomping ahead of her, sulking as he tries in vain to keep tears off of his cheeks. At least if he walks ahead of her, he can keep them hidden from her. But a hand on his shoulder pulls him to a stop. "Come on, Pascal, we should take a break for the night."

"We need to keep going," Pascal shakes his head at her before turning his face away before she can see his tears and get concerned. She's already too concerned for him, he doesn't need to make it worse. He really doesn't understand _why_ she's that concerned…he doesn't deserve any of this… "We're almost to the building, come on."

"Five minutes, Pascal," Ally tells him, not letting up on her grip on his shoulder until he finally sighs loudly and agrees to sit down. She immediately gets their water bottle out of the bag and passes it over to him. As he quietly sips it, glaring out at the arena around him, he starts noticing the ache in his legs. He hasn't walked this much in so long…not in months since that time Elin decided they were all going to go for a hike.

Elin…

He sold them out. God, he was so quick to sell out their family for his own safety. It's like Luciano could have offered him a cornchip and he would have agreed immediately. But Vera was responsible for him being here…so why the hell is he feeling guilty about it right now?

"I want to keep moving," Pascal says as he hands her the water bottle. It's just easier to focus on moving forward, easier to keep being frustrated and angry at Vera for putting him in this situation. Easier than questioning if he will even make it out of here alive or if the Gamemakers will have some pity on him. He wants to believe what Luciano told him…but blind faith has let him down before.

"Alright, we can, but just a couple more minutes to rest, okay?" Ally asks and he glances over at her, hearing the slight waver in her voice as she tries to stay strong. But he can see the quivering of her bottom lip, the glossiness of her eyes, as she struggles to keep back her tears. She takes a deep breath when she notices him looking over at her and forces a smile on her face. "You know what? We can keep moving now."

"Yeah, okay, let's do-"

Pascal never gets to finish his statement as Ally lurches forward and starts coughing blood on him. He reaches out to grab her, seeing the knife in her back poof into thin air before blood starts pouring out of her. "No!" he shouts as he grabs her arms, trying to pull her up to move as he hears footsteps thundering towards them. Whoever threw that knife is heading their way, yet he can't bring himself to move. "Come on, we have to move!"

"Go," Ally coughs at him and tries to push him away from her. "Please, Pascal, don't die with me."

A knife flies past them, too close for comfort, and with tearstained eyes, Pascal finally gets his legs to start moving. Ally's grip on him slips as she shoves her bag at him as the careers get closer to them. "Win for us," Ally whispers before turning to face the three careers as Pascal runs away from them and towards the building.

Pascal uses his arms to brush the tears away from his eyes as he races towards the building, choking back a sob. He doesn't hear any screams from Ally and he glances back as the girl slits her throat.

_Boom._

Pascal fights back a scream as he pushes his legs to move faster, yet fear threatens to freeze him up. How is he ever going to outrun careers? He's a scrawny twelve year old with just a knife. He's more likely to injure himself running with it than injure the actual careers. But he has to keep moving. He can't stop running, not after Ally just gave her life to give him a shot at staying alive.

Pascal's lungs are burning as he reaches the building and throws open the large black doors. He shuts them just as quickly and leans against them, catching his breath for a moment as he squeezes his eyes shut, forcing back the tears. But when he hears a slithering noise and air blowing on his face, he stops his quiet sobs as he slowly opens up his eyes, finding himself face to face with an all black dragon staring down at him with glowing yellow eyes. "Oh you have _got_ to be kidding me."

The dragon pulls herself upright, her head leaning down to peer at him as she opens her mouth, revealing very large and very sharp looking teeth. Pascal is quivering in fear as she stares him down, pressed against the door and knowing he just pissed himself on live television. "Hello, Pascal Flores," the dragon whispered to him in a slithering voice, sending chills down his spine. "I am Naymia, the dragon of humility. Come with me."

Pascal could only blink at the dragon a few times in shock as she starts to move across the building, back towards what looks like an altar of sorts. Naymia glances back at him, coughing out a threatening little burst of fire that has him instantly moving to follow her. Is it incredibly dumb to be following a giant dragon mutt? Yeah. Is it dumber for him to not follow along with what the giant dragon mutt wants him to do? Absolutely.

Banging on the door has him glancing back over his shoulder, but the door stays shut as the careers yell, but he doesn't know how long that will last. Naymia seems unbothered by it as she wraps around the altar, her head resting next to the pedestal holding a gleaming crystal sword on it that somehow seems to be radiating light. "You are the first to arrive at my temple or any temple. Tell me, Pascal, will you take my weapon and be my champion with it?"

Pascal feels like he's balancing on the edge of a cliff, not trusting this one bit, yet feeling like this was some sort of test. Are Lisia and the Council testing his loyalty? Seeing if he really would listen to them or maybe they want to go back on their word and kill him? "What's the catch?" he finally asks as he takes a hesitant step onto the first stair leading up to the sword.

"Clever boy," Naymia tells him and in any other situation, that statement would have made him smile, but hard to be excited about things when there's literally a fire breathing dragon staring him down. Yet her voice sounds…trustworthy, which is dumb, why would a dragon mutt in the Hunger Games be trustworthy?! "If you asked my counterpart, he would give a false answer or not tell you anything. For you, there is no catch with this weapon. It will lose its strength with each strike, but it will not hurt you." Pascal walks up the last few stairs, drawn to the gleam of the sword as he studies the pedestal it's on, wondering if taking it will set off a trap. "And now…you must make your choice."

The doors slam open and Pascal immediately picks up the sword, swinging around to hold it in front of himself defensively. The three careers that killed Ally barge in, all holding knives in their hands as they stare him down. Various looks pass over their faces as they see him standing there holding a sword and with a dragon at his back. Kaz has a look of awe on his face and almost a hint of excitement, Marian has her eyebrows raised in shock, and Rodrick has that cold look in his eyes that reminds Pascal that he was the one who killed Betula. "Stay back!" Pascal yells at them, his voice cracking in fear as he has to use both hands to hold up the sword. "I'm warning you!"

To their credit, it does make them hesitate for a moment, but Pascal suspects it's more from the dragon moving behind him. He glances back over his shoulder, finding Naymia standing upright to her full height. "You two don't belong here!" she yells at the careers and let out a huge roar that makes Pascal crouch down in fear behind the pedestal. The three careers split up, racing in different directions, as Naymia opens her mouth and starts breathing fire across the temple as Marian and Rodrick duck behind pillars of stone. Kaz hides as well, slowly moving closer to Pascal, and it takes a moment for him to realize that he isn't getting targeted by the dragon.

As fire and smoke start to fill the temple, Pascal stays low to the ground, trying to use it as cover. But he cries out in pain as a knife lands in his leg, sending him toppling to the ground and the sword sliding away from him. "Shit," he says as he presses his hand to his bleeding thigh, trying to stop the blood pouring out of it. He starts dragging himself over to the wall, before having to stop and cough at the smoke filling his lungs. The fire is encroaching ever closer to him and Pascal gasps for air as he presses his face to the ground, desperately trying to breathe some clean air.

_No…he can't die like this._

He can feel the fire starting to burn his feet and lets out a shriek of pain before all the smoke he breathed in makes everything turn black.

* * *

_Marian Lilley, 18, District Two_

When Marian first saw the dragon standing behind that scrawny kid from Seven, she was a mix of awe and fear. After all, the mutt was truly something she has never seen before in the Games and Lisia had outdone herself. And like…it's a _dragon_. How could anyone not think it was cool looking? If she was back in Two, she would have been so excited about the mutts.

But as soon as it started breathing fire, any awe slipped away and was replaced with pure survival instinct.

Now, Marian is pressed against a pillar, arm covering her mouth as she tries not to breath in the smoke, all while the dragon stomps around, fire crackling as it prepared to breath more fire at them. She doesn't know where her two allies are anymore or that kid, but she wants that damn sword he held. She _knew_ there had to be better weapons out in the arena and damn it, she wants one!

"Marian! Rodrick!" Kaz calls out to them, just before a cannon fires.

Marian wonders for a moment who the cannon was for, hoping it was that boy and not one of her allies – well, maybe hoping a little bit – as she peers around the pillar, trying to see through the smoke. She catches a glimpse of Kaz running across the temple and the dragon sees him too, yet just lets him run right past it. What the fuck, why does he get to run freely while she gets fire blasted at her?! "The boy's dead!"

"Fuck it, I'm out of here," Marian mutters to herself, taking a deep breath – before starting to cough and realizing that was a bad idea – as she tries to prepare herself for running back to the front doors. Yet fear holds her in place, catching her off guard as it's not something she feels very often. "Lisia, if you let me get out of this building alive, I promise I will make sure you get the career drama you want," she says aloud, hoping the Head Gamemaker is listening to her. "Betrayal, deception, you name it."

"Marian!"

She glances around the pillar again, catching sight of the open doors where Kaz stands in front of it, holding that sword in his hand. Oh he is not getting away with finding that sword. _Here goes nothing._

Marian darts over to the next pillar, glancing over her shoulder at the dragon as it swings its head towards her immediately, fixing her with that unsettling yellow gaze. She braces for the spray of fire, but it doesn't come, so she darts to the next pillar as the dragon snarls at her. _It's working, holy shit it's working!_

The dragon's gaze is pulled to the other side of the room and a spray of fire hits the wall as Rodrick cries out in pain. Marian ignores him as she sprints the last bit of distance towards the open door, where Kaz gets a look of relief at seeing her. He's so trusting…he is going to regret that sooner or later.

"Move it, assholes!" Rodrick yells at them as he pushes them aside, limping as he swats at his burning pant leg. The dragon lets out a huge roar behind them as they run down the front steps of the building before the doors slam shut behind them. He cries out in pain just before he stumbles to the ground, clutching his burned leg. He immediately tries to stand up right away, but Kaz motions for him to stay down. "I'm not staying anywhere close to that thing."

"But you're hurt," Kaz tells him, yet Rodrick ignores him as he stands up and keeps limping away from the building.

Marian keeps her mouth shut, mostly to avoid letting them in on how ecstatic she is that Rodrick got injured. "I'll treat it when we get back to camp," Rodrick spits out, scowl on his face as he stomps as much as he can with his limp back in the direction of the cornucopia.

"Let him," Marian tells Kaz, putting a hand on his shoulder to stop him from trying to make Rodrick stop. Instead, she nods at the sword he now holds, trying to hold back the intense jealousy in her that he has a seemingly good weapon now. "Fancy new sword you have there."

"It is," Kaz nods his head as he holds up the sword to look at it better. "I guess you were right about the buildings holding something important."

That comment puts her jealous thoughts on hold as a new thought enters her brain. She glances around at the arena, not really able to see the other buildings in the darkness, but she knows there's other buildings out there. And if all of them hold a weapon… "We need to go to the other buildings, then."

"Yeah I'll take a hard pass on that," Rodrick calls back over his shoulder at them, his limp becoming more prominent the farther they walk, yet Marian isn't going to offer to help him. Kaz might, but she's sure Rodrick will turn him down. "I will pass on getting burnt to a crisp or eaten alive by a dragon."

"Well you won't be going anywhere any time soon," Marian points out to him, making him give her a brief glare at her over his shoulder. She just gives him an innocent smile in return, making the scowl on his face deepen as he turns back to watch where he's going. "But personally, I want to see what's in those other buildings. If there's more weapons, that alone is enough to make me willing to face a dragon."

Marian's steps slow at the thought of the dragon, something about it not making sense to her. Why didn't the dragon attack that boy and Kaz, but try to attack her and Rodrick? What does a scrawny kid from Seven have in common with a career? She doesn't have the answer to that, and it nags her the entire time walk back to camp.

Rodrick stumbles a bit and Kaz quickly steps forward, putting his arm under Rodrick's shoulders to support him, despite the grumbling protest the boy from One gave him. "I'm _fine!_" Rodrick tries to tell him, but Kaz insists on helping him walk the rest of the way to their camp.

Marian watches them, pleased with the injury Rodrick has. If she were to fight him, all she needs to do is kick that leg and he'll be down. Now the only one that's really a threat to her in the career alliance is Tiv and Marian seems to have that girl wrapped around her finger. Kaz is way too trusting of her and the others and she has no doubt it will be his downfall. And Abel had no chance of winning against her in a fight, not with his legs. Again, she just needs to give a good kick to his legs and he'd be down for the count. And they had taken out two more tributes tonight, one by her own hands. Aside from nearly getting killed by a dragon, tonight wasn't too bad of a night, all things considered.

A smug smile slowly forms on her face as they continue to their camp and Marian is glad she has the cover of darkness to hide it from them. Who is going to oppose her victory now? The careers won't be a threat to her. Who does she have to fear from the others? That bitch boy from Eight? He might have volunteered, but he's no career. The only person Marian has to fear is Lisia Arune, who she just made a promise to that she has every intention of following through with.

She doesn't care if it means being deceitful to her allies. It's what she's done throughout her years in training, anything to make sure that she was the one who was chosen to volunteer when she was eighteen. There just wasn't any alternative for her, not if she was going to get out of that shitty household. And now…now there's no alternative for her aside from getting out of this arena alive and she'll keep doing what she's been doing, and more. Her allies are not her friends, they're her competition. She didn't come here to get attached to them and then have guilt when she gets forced to kill them. What kind of dumbass would do that? Marian is no dumbass. No. She's a winner.

The other careers have no idea what's coming for them. Deception and death.

* * *

_Sissel Wetherburn, 17, District Ten_

Sissel had taken first watch for several reasons – someone needs to keep watch at all times since they set up camp so close to the careers. And one of those reasons was getting tired of listening to Asha repeatedly apologizing to him about not doing more in the bloodbath. There was only so many times he could just give a non-committal shrug and say it was whatever as she kept beating herself up for it. He knows he's not one to talk about holding onto things – he'd like to see someone hold a grudge for longer than he does – but he doesn't _actually_ talk about it.

But finally he has some sweet, quiet peace to himself as he sits on the broken roof of a building, staring in the direction of the cornucopia, as Asha sleeps in the building below him. She stirred at the two cannons, but when he told her to go back to sleep, she thankfully listened to him. He'll admit, he thought she would be more…at least do _something_ in the bloodbath. Yet she had frozen up like prey locked in a falcon's sights, leaving him to do everything. But if there's one thing he is, it's patient from years of working with birds and gaining their trust. He knows what he saw from her in training. He just has to figure out a way to get her to release that side of her…

It would also be helpful if the Gamemakers would send him the thunderbird they promised him.

Sissel's eyes went up to the sky for a minute, knowing he won't be able to see the bird in the night time. No one ever saw Yune at night time until she had them in her grasp. But why haven't the Gamemakers given him a bird yet?!

A bell chimes twelve times, making him jump as Asha let out a little squeak of surprise at it. He shushes her quickly and can hear some rustling of stone, until her head is peeking up over the rooftop at him. "What was that?" she whispers to him, looking around nervously as she pulls herself up the rest of the way.

Sissel fights back a sigh at his peace getting interrupted and instead goes for giving her a shrug as she pulls her knees up to her chest as she sits beside him. He glances up at the large moon in the sky and points up, bringing her attention to it. "My guess is that it's midnight."

"But why would they want us to know that?" Asha asks him and he simply shrugs once more.

"Your guess is as good as mine," Sissel answers her. He doesn't know and he isn't going to waste his time speculating. Let someone else waste their energy doing that when they won't ever get a definitive answer.

"Hmm, I suppose," Asha says with a shrug. "It's just…noticeably different from the cannons so it shocked me. But…who do you think those cannons were for?" Again, something that he could speculate on all day and waste energy when the Gamemakers will tell them tomorrow at sunset. He shrugs again, yet Asha doesn't seem to pick up on him not wanting to keep up pointless conversation right now. "Hopefully a career…that would work out in our favor, huh?"

"It would," Sissel agrees with her, willing to give her that much. He underestimated how exhausting it can be keeping up with an alliance and the mundane conversations he has to participate in. Another reason he enjoys birds over people: birds don't try to keep talking to him and fail to pick up the hint. "Guess we'll find out tomorrow."

"True," Asha says before she finally seems to get the hint that he doesn't really want to keep talking and they fall into blissful silence as Sissel continues to scan the arena in front of them. They saw the careers head out earlier in the day, yet they hadn't returned yet. Surely they were responsible for the cannons – but Sissel wasn't going to bring that up to her.

"Look, Sissel…" Asha starts quietly, letting out a sigh before they fall into silence for a minute as she tries to figure out what to say to him. Sissel keeps his mouth shut, not about to encourage her. "I'm sorry about earlier…I promise I'm going to do more. Next time we run into a tribute, I…I'm gonna fight them."

"Shh," Sissel tells her as he catches a sound in the distance, something he has been waiting to hear all night. He holds up is finger to her, listening closely until he hears the surefire call of a thunderbird searching for him. He keeps a smile off his face at the Gamemakers finally giving him the bird as Asha watches him expectantly. "I thought I heard something but was wrong. But you know what, I have to go use the bathroom. Might be awhile, those beans are upsetting my stomach."

That wasn't true at all, but Sissel just needed an excuse for her to not follow after him or question him being gone for a bit. To her credit, she didn't make much of a face at him suggesting he had to take a big shit, instead nodding her head. "I'll keep watch. Make sure you take the knife with you."

"I will," Sissel says as he grabs the knife and bites down on the handle, freeing up his hands to climb down the broken rock. That would be a horrible way to die, getting killed while taking a shit. The climb down is easy for him, having climbed much smoother surfaces back in Ten while gathering up birds. He lands softly on his feet and grabs the knife in his hand once more as he slips out of the building and into the broken rubble.

Sissel is on edge as he quietly makes his way through the buildings, glancing back occasionally at their hideout to make sure Asha isn't following him for some reason. He gets a far enough distance away that he thinks she won't hear him, or just think he's a weirdo that whistles while he shits, before letting out a trill to summon the thunderbird.

He waits for a couple minutes, until he hears a scuffling of stone and turns around, holding his knife out in front of him defensively. He tries to stop his heart from racing, knowing that the thunderbird wouldn't walk to him on the ground and make noise like that. Which means a tribute is approaching him and he has to try and fight them off.

_Come on, thunderbird, where are you?!_

But it is not a tribute that steps out of the darkness of rubble. He hears the growl coming first before seeing the pair of glowing red eyes, just before the dog mutt leaps out towards him. Sissel lets out a small cry as he slashes at the mutt with his knife, just for it to disintegrate after slashing its side, but it doesn't stop it. The dog tackles him to the ground and Sissel puts up his arms to block his face and neck as it tears at his arms. He tries shoving it away, but the weight of it has him pinned down.

"Bastard," Sissel mutters as he tries to shove the mutt off of him before staring in surprise as he actually manages to push it away. But he soon realizes it was not him that did it.

Standing in front of him, in all its full glory, is a thunderbird, the dog mutt pinned under its sharp talons. The bird is massive, standing well above Sissel's height, as it fixes him with that intelligent sharp gaze, head slightly tilted to the side. Sissel finds himself mimicking its head tilt as he studies the facial markings, having seen pictures of a male thunderbird but not in person. He slowly approaches it, holding out his hand to keep it calm, pausing when it snapped its beak at him. He isn't afraid of him, knowing the Gamemakers – or rather, Theodosius – wants to see this bird in action and wouldn't kill him, but they had to put on a show. "Hey there," Sissel says quietly, and the bird tilted his head the other way. He steps ever closer as the dog continued to bark, only cut off into a whine as the bird squeezes his talons tighter.

Sissel gets close enough to reach the bird and stops for a moment, letting the bird very lightly nip his hand before letting out a little chitter and putting his head down lower for him to reach. Sissel gently rubs the spot on the top of his head, slowly smiling as the bird starts making noises of happiness at the scratches. "Hey there," he says softly, the bird's intelligent eyes studying him. "Let's call you…Katsu."

_His victory._

No one is going to stop him now. Not when he has a thunderbird by his side. It doesn't matter that his arms are bleeding and he lost their one knife. He'd deal with those things later and come up with an excuse for Asha. For now…he glances down at the mutt still in Katsu's talons, the beast that tried to attack him. "Let's see what you can do," he whispers as he steps back before letting out a low whistle for a couple seconds, Katsu fixing him with a sharp look as he waits. When he sharply increases the pitch, a menacing grin spreads across his face as he points at the dog mutt, his thunderbird waiting for his command. "Kill it."

* * *

**We are back in action, my dudes! First things first:**

**Eulogies:**

_17th - Ally Ishmael [10], killed by Marian [2]:_

_Going into the Games, I knew obviously that Ally was going to die simply from the fact that she was a non-featured tribute, but I always knew I wanted her death to be so that her ally could get away. She was a headstrong girl fighting for what she believed in, so I wanted her death to mean something. And she died happy knowing that Pascal was (seemingly) getting away from the careers. Unfortunately, sometimes deaths are in vain and the person they were trying to save didn't survive. But at least she died before knowing Pascal's fate. Thank you Fox for Ally! RIP Ally._

_16th - Pascal Flores [7], killed by dragon mutt:_

_And so the first featured tribute has fallen - and first of mine. I always knew going into the Games, probably before even writing his intro, that Pascal wasn't meant to win. Between his history and family, and the fact that he's a scrawny twelve year old, the odds were never in his favor to win these Games. And so I knew his death had to be what introduced us to the dragon mutts. He might not have won, but how many tributes can say they got killed by a dragon? (We'll answer that question at the end of the Games lol) It's sad to let go of the first of my tributes, but it had to happen eventually. __But he still has quite a part to play within my stories thanks to his connection to Elin and the rebels... RIP Pascal._

**Well, I certainly didn't expect to be updating this today considering when I woke up I had nothing written for it so far. But I gave it a shot and at least tried to just start it, and here we are, one full chapter later XD What can I say, I got motivated by the mutts lol. And _finally_ I get to reveal the mutts and what's in the buildings! Oh man that's something that's been planned since at least fall last year so it's exciting to finally be here. And also I wasn't planning on having the thunderbird in for another chapter or two, yet here we are so a big YOLO to that XD Worth it because Sissel meeting the bird was just so cute.**

**Looking ahead, not sure on the frequency of updates still. If you're following Renegades or have looked at my profile recently, you might know I've taken a little break from writing my stories the last month. I'm slowly getting back into it and now that I've gotten a taste of the Games excitement, I suspect I'll want to keep writing this story for sure. So that being said, if you wanna sponsor before the next chapter, I would do so soon.**

**I've fallen behind on housekeeping stuff like sponsor points and the blog, but I'm gonna get around to updating that today. So keep an eye out for those things!**

**RQ #23:** What would you name your thunderbird if you got one in the arena?

**Alrighty dudes, I'll see you...sometime soon with Day Two!**


	28. Day Two: Blessings and Curses

**Chapter 24:**

_Day Two_

_Jendaya 'Jenny' Barrett, 18, District Eleven_

None of this was going to plan. She wasn't supposed to have an ally she wanted to protect. She wasn't supposed to have her supplies stolen by that bitch from Eight. She wasn't supposed to be _weaponless_. Yet every time Jenny tries to just leave Iroha, move on before she gets even more unwilling to leave, something stops her from going through with it.

She can't leave Iroha without any food or water, which would happen if she took their supplies with her. Jenny has no doubt she can outrun the new mother. It would be so easy for her to do. And yet…she stays with her. Maybe it's out of masochism that she wants to keep being near the woman who has what she has regretted for the last few months.

Maybe she's weaker than she thought.

_No._ Jenny is not a weak woman. She survived hell with Kane and pulled herself up from the poorest parts of Eleven into the wealthy woman she is today. She is anything but weak. Which is why she is going to leave Iroha.

…After they go into this building together.

There is one thing that makes Jenny a little scared and that's whatever the Gamemakers are up to with these buildings. They gathered that information about them for a reason in the private sessions and she's just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Surely they will be using that information _somehow_ in this arena. Jenny just hasn't figured out _how_ yet. Which is why she's still with Iroha, right? It's safer at this point still to be with someone else in the arena. Yeah, that's definitely it.

"So do we go in?" Iroha asks her as they stand in front of the large purple double doors. They've spent the last few minutes staring up at the doors, contemplating if they should go in or not. It feels like a huge trap, but at this point, Jenny doesn't know if they have the option to not go in anymore. Surely Lisia will want them to enter after they've debated it so much.

"There might be food in there and that's worthwhile enough to check it out," Jenny points out, yet stays frozen in place.

"Or maybe weapons," Iroha adds quietly and Jenny nods her head. Yeah, that would be quite nice, considering they don't have their knife anymore. "Seems suspicious the whole knives disappearing thing. Not…exciting…for her final Games if people just bleed out from one injury."

"I agree," Jenny says. "And a woman like Head Gamemaker Arune doesn't settle for not exciting…" She's banking on Lisia having something up her sleeves with these buildings and wanting the audience to see them, which will stop her from killing them. "Come on, let's do this."

Iroha nods her head and takes a deep breath as they step up to the doors and each push open one of the large doors. They pause to take in the building in front of them, still a thing of beauty despite the lack of decorations filling the space. The floor and walls are made of a deep purple crystal that reflects the light of the sun shining through the open doors behind them, along with fire from the torches on the black obsidian pillars line the room, leading back to an altar that stands in the middle of the room, one of two things within the building.

The other thing is a large dragon.

"Can't say I saw that coming," Jenny says nervously, starting to take a step back towards the doors, but they quickly slam shut, keeping them inside. _Shit._

The dragon slowly pulls himself up, purple scales sliding against each other as he comes up to his full height, towering over them. His black head only makes the bright yellow eyes stand out even more, until he bares his sharp teeth at them. "One of you belongs here…the other does not…" he says in a slow deep voice, free of malice, aside from the faint graveling undertone.

Iroha and Jenny share a look at this and Iroha reaches over to grab Jenny's arm tightly in fear, before seemingly realizing what she's done and dropping it. "Will you tell us who?"

"Hmm," the dragon says as he starts slowly walking over to them, tail swishing behind him, and the two women press their backs against the door. He stares at them for a long minute before fixing his gaze solely on Iroha. "You. Come with me." He turns back to Jenny, narrowing his eyes and baring his teeth. "You stay right there. The only reason you are still alive to have this conversation is because I am the dragon of temperance. Do not test my self-restraint if you wish to live."

Jenny nods her head quickly and the dragon turns away from her, back towards the center of the room. Iroha nervously looks after the dragon and at Jenny, before her curiosity wins out and she decides to follow after the mutt as he explains things to her. "As the first one here, you may receive my weapon and be the champion of Nemrinth. But you should practice temperance with the weapon, for it does not work as normal weapons do."

"What does that mean?" Iroha asks as she steps up to the alter as Jenny narrows her eyes in jealousy at Iroha getting a good weapon and she has nothing. She could steal it from her…

"Hmm…" Nemrinth says as Iroha stops in front of the weapon that Jenny can't identify from her spot. "That is information I cannot reveal. Everything has a price in this world. Now take it."

Iroha slowly reaches over and takes the weapon, stepping back quickly from the altar as if she suspects there's a trap, but nothing happens to her. She takes a few steps backwards towards Jenny, clutching the weapon to her chest. "Thank you for this, oh great Nemrinth," she says carefully, continuing to keep her eyes on the dragon as she walks backwards to Jenny.

Nemrinth follows after her and Iroha picks up her pace, nearly tripping as she tries to get back. "Flattery will get you nowhere with me. Now, my counterpart? Oh yes, she would love flattery. Now _go._"

Iroha turns and runs the remaining distance over to Jenny, finally letting her see the glowing crystal dagger in her hand. _Damn it, she wants that._ Why did Iroha get to have this weapon but not Jenny?! …She knows the reason. It's because of what she revealed in her private session. She wonders if the Gamemakers will let her have any weapon like that.

The dragon still approaches them, this time focusing on Jenny.

"I can sense…" Nemrinth says slowly, blinking his eyes at Jenny. "A…desire in you. A desire for what I have given her." He slowly slinks back to his spot behind the altar, resting his head down next to the empty spot, still staring at Jenny with those large yellow eyes. "Perhaps you should go see my sister Udhyl. She might be willing to give you her blessing."

"Is her blessing another weapon?" Jenny asks and Nemrinth picks up his head to nod once at her before setting it back down with a thud. She knows it's a bad idea trusting this mutt…but can she resist the offer coming straight from the Gamemakers to get a weapon for herself? Absolutely not, especially if she is going to leave Iroha soon. "Where can we find her?"

"Look for the golden doors on this side," Nemrinth tells her as the doors fling open, making both of them jump as they bang open on the walls. "Now leave me before my restraint completely dissipates over you being in _my_ temple."

Jenny doesn't need to be told twice and she quickly scrambles out of the building, Iroha close behind her. The doors shut behind them and Jenny peers over at them, her heart racing a bit from coming face to face with a mutt of that kind.

"Are we really going to intentionally seek out another dragon mutt?" Iroha asks her as Jenny turns to scan the buildings around them, trying to find the golden doors Nemrinth spoke of, before setting off west.

"If it has another weapon for us to use, then yes, we are," Jenny tells her, hint of jealousy in her voice as she storms off towards the other buildings, Iroha right behind her. She slows her pace at that, wanting to keep in line with the woman now that she has a good weapon to use while Jenny is weaponless.

_For now._

* * *

_Rodrick Tang, 18, District One_

Rodrick is really starting to think the Gamemakers have something against him, yet he doesn't understand why. All he's done is exactly what they expect of him to do! He killed in the bloodbath without blinking an eye. He went hunting right away yesterday and tried to kill that boy from Seven.

So why was he punished and had a dragon try to burn him to death? Why wasn't he the one that got to claim that shining crystal weapon instead of Kaz, the one who hasn't made a single kill yet?! For once, he seems to actually be in agreement with Marian over something: both of them are not happy that they didn't get to have that weapon. And Kaz seemed oblivious to that.

Rodrick grimaces as he peels back the bandages on his leg, taking another look at the burn there. He is lucky they had every other supply they would need in the cornucopia aside from good weapons or else Rodrick would be in really bad shape. Well, worse than he currently is. The burn cream numbed the blistering skin and seemed to be expediting the healing, but he still is going to be slowed by it for a few days. Which he cannot let the other careers know about. He doesn't doubt that most of them would use it to their advantage.

He'll show them all that a burn isn't going to slow him down. It's what he came here to do, after all. Prove to his mother that he can do this… What does she think of his actions so far? She should be happy that he has a kill so far, but she has to be disappointed that he is just sitting around after his injury… He has to keep moving, he can't just keep sitting around and letting his mother be disappointed in him. He's already done enough of that by winding up in jail.

Rodrick tries to stand up, barely holding back a whimper of pain before flopping back down to his spot. Nope. He's not going anywhere today. Not with this burn. _Shit._

He'd rather pay attention to the idiotic chatter of his allies than focus on the thought of his mother being disappointed by him.

"I can't believe I missed out on seeing a _dragon_!" Tiv whines, seemingly unable to grasp the fact that this dragon was trying to kill them with fire. "When can we go to another one of those buildings?"

"Yeah, go right ahead," Rodrick gestures off to the buildings as he sneers at her excitement to run off to get killed by a dragon. Maybe he should go ahead and let her go. One less person standing between him and victory. "Go right to the firebreathing dragon that tried to kill us."

"It didn't try to kill me," Kaz speaks up, looking up from the crystal weapon that rests in his lap, one hand protectively on the hilt. So he is smart enough to not trust them to try and steal it. "And didn't try to kill that boy until we entered. And let me take this."

"Which is odd," Abel says from Kaz's side where he's been watching the rest of them with distrustful eyes. "Why attack some of you but not the others? What's the reasoning?"

"I doubt there's any reason aside from entertaining or not," Tiv scoffs as she leans over to tap the sword with her nail, only for Kaz to pull it away from her. "I just want to get myself a fancy weapon like that. Do you think all of the buildings have a weapon like that?"

"Most likely," Abel tells her as he looks around at the other buildings. "But seems likely they also have dragons or some kind of mutt guarding them. Do we want to take the risk of entering one where the mutt will attack us?"

"In case you missed it, genius, we're in the Hunger Games," Rodrick scoffs at him and rolls his eyes. "You don't win without taking risks."

"Of course," Abel says quietly, putting his head down as he stares at his leg braces. "We're all aware of that. But if there's some sort of pattern to this, it's worthwhile to try and figure it out before rushing in blindly."

Tiv pouts at that and sighs loudly, clearly anxious to get out there and do something after being left behind yesterday. "Can't we at least go look for tributes or something?"

"I doubt we'll be allowed to find anyone today," Marian speaks up for the first time in a while, having been unusually silent through all of this. Rodrick narrows his eyes at her, suspicious of whatever she is up to. "She won't want her final Games going too quickly. So guess we should figure out the pattern."

Her tone has him suspicious that she has an idea of the pattern, but before he can say anything, a loud screech has them all looking up at the sky and grabbing weapons, and Rodrick can't help the shrill scream that escapes him at the giant bird flying in the sky in the distance. "What the fuck is that?!"

Marian bursts out laughing at his reaction and he glares at her, squeezing the hilt of his knife and contemplating how bad of an outcome it would be if he drove it into her head right now. The rest would probably retaliate and he isn't running away from them right now. "It's called a mutt, you idiot. You face a firebreathing dragon but scream like a small child at the sight of a bird mutt in the distance?"

"I- it's different!" Rodrick says defensively as he crosses her arms at her. "Birds of prey just have a freaking look to their eyes!"

Before Marian can answer, the bird swoops down in the distance and picks up some four legged mutt, carrying it into the air, before letting it fall to the ground and swooping after it. They all cringe at the thought of being caught by that bird…that is not how any of them wants to die.

"I think we can all agree that we're not going in that direction," Abel tells the group and they all agree right away with him. An unsettling quiet falls over their group as they stare at where that bird mutt swooped down out of sight.

"Okay maybe I can wait with going to one of those buildings," Tiv says, finally getting it through to her airhead brain that the mutts aren't something to mess with. She turns back to Kaz and gestures at the sword. "Now are we going to see if that works differently than the knives?"

"Obviously it does," Rodrick tells her, rolling his eyes at his dumb District partner. "Why else would it have a fucking _dragon_ guarding it? It has to be special."

Kaz picks up the sword from his lap to stare at it closer. The sun catches it and reflects light off of it, making it even more blindingly bright than before. "We won't know until we find another tribute and…I use it on them."

"Or we give someone a light scratch to test it out," Tiv offers and the others all give her looks right away at that.

"Yes, and when it shatters without using it on an actual tribute, that will be just _great_," Marian tells her, giving a little laugh despite barely hiding her annoyance in her eyes. "Look, Lisia isn't going to let us find tributes today and Rodrick ain't going anywhere with that leg. And none of us want to get close to that bird mutt. So we need to sit tight and put our heads together to figure out what is going on with this arena."

There is little that Rodrick would find less enjoyable than sitting around with _this_ group all day but he really doesn't have a choice here. God, he can't wait until he can get away from this group of imbeciles. And once more, he's suspicious of her tone. "Do you have any theories?" he asks her, narrowing his eyes.

Marian gives a simple shrug in response. "Nope."

Rodrick suspects she does have a theory, but she's remaining quiet about it. Which means he is not going anywhere with her alone. He knows that cold look in her eyes. It's the look of someone who wouldn't hesitate to betray a supposed ally if it means getting themselves further. It's the same look he knows he has in his own eyes.

The question is which one of them will make the first betrayal?

* * *

_Artem Nobyl, 14, District Five_

Artem didn't know what was wrong with the first building they got near, but he wasn't going to question Grey's decision to keep moving on to the next one. It was all he could do to try to help Sasha keep moving along as they followed after him, sweat pouring down his back from the heat of the day.

"Come on, we're almost there!" Grey calls back to them, waving over his shoulder at them to pick up the pace. "Once we get there, we can stop for some food and water."

"I swear, if we don't stop at this one," Sasha mutters under her breath, letting out a huff as she tries to keep going.

"I'm sure we will," Artem tries to reassure her, but he's honestly not sure about that… But still, he has to trust that Grey has kept going forward for a reason. He's already done way more for their alliance than Artem would be able to do on his own. He got them food and water, helped patch up Sasha's wound…and what has Artem done? Nothing.

Grey turns back around again and lets out a huff of annoyance at their slow pace before backtracking to take over helping Sasha walking from Artem and she mildly protests it. "Come on, if you don't pick up the pace, we'll be sitting ducks out here in the sun."

"I'm trying my best," Sasha tells him, letting out a little whimper of pain when she jostles her wound.

"Well try harder please," Grey answers before they fall into silence as they close the distance to the building. Artem can only hobble behind them, feeling once more like he isn't doing enough for the alliance. He can't even help Sasha with walking around…

How would he possibly survive without Grey?

He fights back a sniffle and wipes at his face, not wanting to let either of them know what he's feeling right now as Grey leads Sasha up the steps to the building. But instead of pausing for food and water, he pushes ahead to the large green double doors in front of them. He pauses to glance back at the two, making sure they're going to follow after him. "Come on now, I'm sure there's something worthwhile in there."

"Can't I just sit out here?" Sasha asks, breathing heavy as she presses her hand against her wound. When she pulls it away, there's a bit of fresh blood on her hand. "I think I need new bandages."

"You know we don't have enough to spare right now," Grey tells her, shaking his head before turning back to the doors. "Let's go."

Artem shares a look with Sasha as Grey opens the doors, also wishing they could stay out on the stairs and rest for a minute. He hasn't had to move this much in…well, ever really. He can feel his armpit bruising from all the use on the crutch, blisters forming from his hand sweating as he desperately gripped it to avoid falling. At least he isn't injured like Sasha…

He takes a deep breath as he follows after Grey, Sasha right behind him, but he stops moving immediately when he nearly runs into Grey. Sasha _does_ bump into him and Artem has to reach out and grab Grey's back to stop himself from falling. "Quit moving!" Grey barks back at them, hint of anger in his voice before turning back to face the reason they have all stopped.

"Finally, someone has arrived at my temple," the dragon who's face is right in front of Grey says, her voice velvety and the words almost merge together. Green scales reflect the light around her, but her belly and head are bright white, nearly clear scales. She grins at the three of them, showing off the rows of very sharp teeth and Artem can feel himself peeing a little bit. That's it, they're all going to die. "I couldn't believe that those _disgusting_ virtuous dragons were visited first. Don't you know who I am?!"

Grey bows his head to the dragon and she lets out a laugh that sends a chill down Artem's spine. "It is a shame that we have not heard of you yet. Please, enlighten us, magnificent dragon."

The dragon backs up to stand to her full height and stretches out her green wings, nearly touching the opposite walls of the building. "I am Vulthuryol, the envious!" she says loudly, voice echoing around the building. "You have chosen wisely. None of the rest come close to me. Bah, stupid Naymia being visited first." Artem is shaking in fear as he looks over at Sasha when she grips his arm tightly. Her face is full of fear as well. Somehow, Grey seems to be the only one not afraid right now. Vulthuryol settles back down on the green crystal floor, swishing her tail back and forth as she watches them with her teeth bared. "Now, technically I am only supposed to let one of you in here, but I know the envy the other two feel in their hearts." She takes the time to look at Artem and Sasha, "Both of you envious of those around you, wishing you could be like them. Well…I do happen to know a little bit about envy. You can stay. Just don't touch anything."

"What about me?" Grey asks as he takes a bold step closer to the dragon and Artem tries to reach out to stop him.

"Ah you may come with me," Vulthuryol turns her head to lead him back into the room, past the white pillars. "I have a weapon for anyone who feels envy in their hearts like me. Or anyone really, just so that those nasty virtuous dragons aren't the only ones with weapons out in the arena."

"Th-there are more of you?" Artem asks quietly, letting out a squeak of fear as Vulthuryol whips her head back around to fix him with a glare. He tries to hide behind Sasha, but she just pushes him in front of her.

"Yes, there are, unfortunately," Vulthuryol tells them, letting out a small blast of fire in annoyance. "Sydrunth thinks he's so much better than the rest of us. Ha, look who was visited first! Not him. And those virtuous ones think they're all high and mighty, but they're just as bad as us. At least we'll tell you to your face our intentions."

"And what are your intentions?" Grey asks curiously as he stops at the stairs up to an altar and thankfully bringing the dragon's focus back to him.

"I want them to praise me like they are praising the others," Vulthuryol tells him. "I want to be the first to have their weapon used. So take it, Grey Pendleton, and make the others envious that you have a weapon that won't disintegrate after one use. The weapon of Vulthuryol!"

Grey takes the weapon as Artem starts slowly backing up towards the open door, dragging Sasha with him. He really doesn't want to overstay his welcome in this temple and doesn't trust the dragon mutt to not flip on them in an instant. "I will make sure to use this. Thank you for this."

"Hmm, will you be thanking me?" Vulthuryol asks him, tilting her head as she studies him. "That's for you to find out. Now get out of here, I want them to envy you!"

As Grey walks towards them, holding a blow dart gun made of stark white bone…Artem will admit, he does feel a bit of envy in him towards Grey. But he tries to quickly push that feeling aside as Grey smiles at them. "Come on now, I'm not breaking my word to a dragon."

"But – the break?" Sasha asks as Grey sets out down the stairs. "I can't keep moving like this."

Grey stops walking, his back turned to them for a few seconds and Artem can see him take a deep breath, before he turns to face them with a forced smile. "Fine, we can rest for five minutes, but that's it."

"Thanks," Sasha says, hint of bitterness in her voice as she lowers herself to the ground. She lifts up her shirt to look at the bandages on her side, finding them filled with fresh blood. Grey frowns at the sight of her injury, but stays put.

"How many bandages do we have left?" Artem asks, deeply concerned for his ally.

"Not enough to change them now," Grey shakes his head at them. "I'm sorry, Sasha, but we can't. All the more reason to find other tributes so we can steal supplies from them. Now that I have this," he waves the blow dart in his hand and Artem doesn't understand why the weapon unsettles him. "I can protect you two better."

As nervous as Artem is for finding other tributes…he trusts Grey to protect them. And they won't be able to survive on their supplies for much longer with three of them… "You're right, we need to find other tributes."

Grey gives him a big smile at that, making Artem feel like he made the right call. "Absolutely. Now let's go, Sasha. It's time to get moving."

* * *

**And we have Day Two! A death free chapter, but certainly not an actionless chapter because we have more dragons! Honestly I'm just hella excited for the dragons and to write them so yeah, we're gonna see more of them lol. Lisia didn't put all this work into her arena for the dragons to not be seen XD And now we have t****he puzzle pieces getting moved, more weapons are getting brought into the game...but just what will those weapons do? Hmm...guess we'll have to wait and find out. And how interesting that only one of them has tried to actually kill tributes in their temple, hmm...interesting.**

**We love to see some tension within alliances and this chapter gave us that in all three POVs lol. The Games just have a way of doing that to people lol. And also it helps when the people are not necessarily good people XD**

**Just a reminder that sponsoring is open! Get those gifts in if you're interested in sponsoring because you never know when someone is gonna go!**

**RQ #24:** Who do you think will be the first one to use one of these weapons?

**Alrighty, I'll see you all soon with Night Two!**


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